Roommates
by dontyouwannadance
Summary: When Oliver's music career seems to be going down the drain, Miley lets him move into her apartment. Their temporary living arrangements, however, end up being not so temporary.
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay. So you may have noticed (but probably didn't) that one of my stories is missing...Well that's because I got the idea for this one. And I wanted to write this one more than the one I deleted. I'll probably repost the one I deleted later, after I finish Lovesick or this one, whichever happens first.**_

Anyway...I own nothing. Just the plot.

Miley Stewart was sitting in her seat, waiting for the people ahead of her to clear out, before she got off the plane. She had her phone to her ear, and her hand in her purse, as she tried to find her wallet.

"The plane landed. I'm not dead yet." She said to the man on the other end of the phone. The woman in the seat next to her, who was waiting - a small child in her arms- for the same reason that Miley was, jumped as a loud voice shot out of the phone. Miley held it away from her ear and smiled apologetically at the woman, before putting the phone back in place.

"I know the plane could still explode, Pierre. I was only joking." Miley finally stood up, her purse hanging from her right shoulder, and her wallet in her hand. "I hate coach. It's gonna take me a decade to get off this plane." She slowly followed the last couple people off the plane, tripping over the seam between the plane and the carpet outside it's open doorway. "Anyway, I have to go now." She paused for a moment, and then added "I'm gonna miss you too Pierre. I had a lot of fun in Paris...Okay, bye!" She flipped her phone shut and stuffed it back into her purse as she walked, before hurrying to the Starbucks right outside her gate that had become a ritual for Miley's homecomings. She ordered a small frappuccino before heading to the baggage claims.

It took Miley nearly an hour to get out of the airport and into a cab, due to the immense ammount of people occupying the hallways inside, and the line to the bathroom. She was greatly releived when she sat down in the taxi's back seat, as were her sore feet. She gave the driver her father's address, and closed her eyes, to rest, for the 30 minutes it took to get there.

When the taxi cab slowed to a stop outside of the Stewart household, Miley passed the driver his money, and climbed out, slamming the door behind her, before the cab sped off.

She smiled up at the house that she'd spend the majority of her teenage years in, when the door opened, and Mr. Stewart came out.

"You're home!" He exclaimed, his smile bigger than the one Miley'd been wearing.

"Yeah, finally. It was a long trip." She told him, as he engulfed her in a hug.

"I'm glad you're home, bud." Miley only smiled in response. "Well, your bags only got here this morning. I left them in the living room. Oh, and when you left your car here, it was on empty, so I got some gas for you."

"Thanks dad. How much do I owe you?" Miley asked, digging through her purse again.

"Oh, you don't owe me anything. It's fine. I told the guy at Walmart that I was Hannah's dad and got free groceries, so we're even." Miley rolled her eyes, letting her arm drop to her side again.

"Do you want to stay for dinner? We're just having waffles, but you're welcome to have some. They're homemade. Lynne made them, so you know they're good." Robbie Ray said over his shoulder as he started up the driveway.

"No thanks. I really should get going. I'm stopping by Lilly's to wish her happy birthday, then I have some errands to run." Miley told him, following her father into the house to get the bags she'd had shipped ahead of her.

"Okay. More waffles for me." Mr. Stewart said, smiling.

"Tell Lynne hi for me. And thanks for the offer, Dad."

"No problem. Stop by tomorrow, if you can. Lynne wanted to see you, but she had something going on tonight." Mr. Stewart suggested, as he helped Miley pick up her suitcases and take them back out to the driveway, where her car had been parked for the three months she'd been in Paris.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then." Miley agreed, closing the trunk after everything was inside. She took the keys from her father, hugged him goodbye, and climbed into the driver's seat.

Upon arriving at Lilly's house, Miley got out of the car, stuffed her keys into her pocket, and walked up to the front door, entering without knocking, as it was unlocked.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Lilly, happy birthday to you!" Miley sang, when she found Lilly and Oliver in the kitchen.

"Miley! You're home! A week early!" Lilly exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air as she stood up at the table she had been sitting at, across from Oliver.

"Oh, hey Miley." Oliver greeted, his voice melancholy, a forced smile on his face.

"What's wrong Ollie? Aren't you happy to see me?" Miley asked, still smiling, as she ruffled his shaggy brown hair. She sat down in the empty chair next to her best guy friend, and her smile disappeared as she caught sight of the frown on Lilly's face.

"No, I am. I'm sorry. I'm glad you're home." He tried to smile again, but it looked just as fake as it had the first time.

"His career's not going too well." Lilly explained.

"I got rejected again."

"Oh, Oliver, I'm sorry. You weren't rejected, you just...weren't what they were looking for."

"AKA rejection."

"I could help you, I know a guy who-"

"No, Miley, I don't need your help. I can figure it out myself." Oliver interrupted.

"And while you're figuring that out...you need to figure out where you're going to stay. My couch is only available for a week before I start charging rent. My mom's not too happy about the whole situation. She's making me pay rent to live here, so..." Lilly added to the uncomfortableness.

"What...?" Miley asked, looking at Lilly, confused.

"He got evicted." Lilly whispered.

"Oh...I'm sorry Oliver."

"I really don't need all of these apologies, if you don't mind." Oliver said, sounding bitter.

"Oh okay...You know what, how about this. How about you stay at my place for a while? It's really too big for just me. It's the least I could do."

"No, you don't have to." Oliver replied, getting up from his chair.

"Oliver, come on. I owe you for a lot of things. If you stay at my place...under one condition, we'll be even." Miley tried to convince him.

"One condition? What kind of condition?" Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"You cut your hair."

"No!" Oliver shouted, leaning back in his chair.

"Come on Oliver. It's her place minus a few inches of hair, or the streets plus lice." Lilly pointed out. Oliver scowled at her, unconsciously sticking his fingers in his nearly shoulder length hair.

"Lice or couch Oliver. Make a decision." Miley urged him.

"Fine. Just until I find a job and can pay my rent again." Oliver gave in.

"Yay! We're roommates!" Miley cheered, excitedly.

"Yeah. Yay! I'm mooching off of you now!" Oliver waved his hands in the air, faking excitement.

"This could be fun!" Miley said cheerfully. Lilly snorted, trying to conceal her laughter.

"Hey! I can be fun!" Oliver defended.

"No, I know. Just...your snoring isn't fun. If the neighbors weren't old and deaf...they so would have been complaining all week." Lilly explained.

"Hey, I do not snore that loud!"

"Mmhmm. Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night." Lilly went into the kitchen, a smile on her face, and took a plate of cookies off the counter. "Want one?" She asked, stuffing one into her mouth with the hand that wasn't holding the plate. She set the cookies down on the table, and reclaimed her seat, as Miley grabbed a chocolate chip cookie and took a bite.

"I should probably get going. I'm sure I have a lot of grocery shopping to do." Miley admitted, rubbing her tired eyes. She turned to Oliver and asked, "You wanna take your stuff over now Oliver, or do you want to stay here?"

"Uhh...I think I'll come. I only have two bags."

"Sorry I couldn't stay longer Lilly. I'm pretty tired. But happy birthday!" Miley apologized.

"Oh, it's okay. We can celebrate tomorrow too!" Lilly replied, brushing off her friend's departure as she stood up again, to help carry Oliver's bags out to Miley's car.

"Sounds like a plan." Miley agreed, while sticking her hand into her pocket, to find her keys. Oliver kneeled next to the couch, stuffing a few items into a suitcase to it's right, before zipping it up and standing up again.

The three of them exited the house, enjoying the springtime air as Lilly and Oliver stuffed Oliver's bags into the back seat of Miley's car.

After bidding Lilly farewell, Oliver climbed into the passenger seat of Miley's car, while Miley sat in the driver's seat.

"So how was Paris?" Oliver asked, obviously trying to start a conversation and end the awkwardness that filled the space around them.

"It was nice. I was pretty homesick though. It's a lot different from Malibu."

"Really?" Oliver mumbled, fiddling with his seat belt.

"Yeah. What'd you do while I was gone?" Miley asked, trying to keep their chat going.

"Oh, uhh...trying to get a record deal, pretty much. Your dad had a bonfire once. That was fun."

"Oh really? A Thank God Miley's Gone Party?" She skipped over the disappointed tone of Oliver's voice when he mentioned his failed career.

"Pretty much." Oliver replied, chuckling.

"Umm...excuse me for asking, but...why can't you just stay with your mom?"

"Oh she won't let me. I asked, but she said that she knows how I am and that if she lets me stay, I'll never leave. She said the same thing to my dad, during their divorce. He moved out and went as far away as he could. Now he lives in China, with his new wife and new son."

"Oh...I never knew that, Oliver." Miley said quietly, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"You never asked. It's okay though. His new son's name is Tofu. At least I'm not named after food." Miley laughed, before flipping on her turning signal, and taking her foot off the gas pedal. She pressed her foot to the brake, before turning into the parking lot of what looked to be an expensive apartment building. It was a tall building, but not wide enough to have more than 20 apartments inside, which explained the small parking lot.

After Miley parked the car, she and Oliver climbed out, and each carried a suitcase inside. The main floor looked slightly like the lobby of a hotel, only without the front desk. From where they were standing, outside the elevator, there were three mid-size rooms. The entryway to each was an archway, so Oliver was able to see inside them. One room was a bar, another was a gym, and the third was filled with a conglomerate of laundry machines.

The doors to the elevator finally opened, revealing a shiny metal room with mock-marble tiles covering the floor.

"Wow..." Oliver whispered.

"Nice, isn't it?" Miley asked him, smiling as she stepped inside the elevator. Oliver followed her in, suitcase behind him, and said,

"I could sell both of my kidneys, and I still wouldn't be able to afford your apartment."

"Well I'd hope not. If you didn't have your kidneys, you'd be dead." Oliver smirked at her. She only smiled, pressing the button with the number 10 on it.

"How long have you lived here? Why haven't I been here yet?" Oliver asked.

"I moved in a couple weeks before I left for Paris. And you haven't been here because I only saw you once, the whole month before I left."

"Oh...I'm sorry..."

"I thought I was the one that got to overuse "I'm sorry."" Miley replied, smiling again.

The elevator smoothly came to a stop on the tenth floor, and the doors slid open, revealing not a hallway, like Oliver had expected, but a small entryway, with a door across from them. Miley rolled Oliver's suitcase across the tiny room, to the door, and took her keys out of the purse she had slung over her shoulder, to open the door. She pushed the door open with her hip, as she returned her keys, and entered the apartment, flicking on the lights once she was out of Oliver's way.

"Oh wow..." Was all that Oliver could say.

"Yeah, I had to sell my grandma to get this place. That's why she hasn't come out to visit in a while." Miley joked, setting the bag that had been hanging from her shoulder on the small cherry-colored wooden table behind her. Oliver stood in awe, staring into the kitchen of Miley's monstrous apartment. The counter tops were a dark gray marble, attached to a great amount of wooden cupboards, which were made of the same color wood as the table Miley'd set her purse on. The floor in the kitchen was a much lighter colored hardwood, and the part of the wall that showed behind the cupboards was a pale olive green. There were a few fake plants littering the counter top, along with a bunch of blackened, shriveled up bananas.

"Hmm. Looks like I need to add bananas to the list." Miley noted, staring at the rotten fruit.

Oliver nodded, taking in the rest of what he could see of the apartment.

"OH! You can take your stuff into the guest room. It's right over there " She pointed at a doorway across the living room. "I don't have a mattress in there yet, so you'll have to sleep on the couch for a couple days, but you can keep your stuff in there."

"You don't have to buy a mattress just for me."

"I can't have a guest room without a bed, Oliver." Miley explained, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, while you're unpacking, I'm gonna check and see what I need to get at the grocery store. Do you need anything?"

"Uh, no. But I'll go with you, if you want."

"Umm, sure. That'd be nice. I haven't seen you in forever, so it'll be nice to catch up." Miley agreed, nodding and smiling at the same time, before she knelt in front of the island in her kitchen, and opened the doors to check what she didn't have.

Oliver hurriedly unzipped his suitcases, after he'd dragged them into the guest room, and started putting his clothes in the drawers of the dresser, the lone piece of furniture in the room. He didn't know where the bathroom was, or if he was allowed to put his toiletries inside of it, so he left them on top of the dresser, zipped the suitcases back up, and put them next to the dresser, the smaller one stacked on top of the larger one.

"Hey can you check the fridge? If there's any milk in there, throw it out. Actually...if there's anything in there, throw it out." Miley asked, elbow deep in the corner cabinet.

Oliver did what she said, reluctant to leave fingerprints on Miley's incredibly shiny stainless steel refrigerator. Inside the fridge was a gallon of yellow milk, which proved to be solid, when Oliver picked it up, shook it, and none of it moved. There was also a nearly empty tub of butter, some watery mayonnaise, some brown celery, and a dozen containers of yogurt. Oliver tossed everything but the yogurt and the milk into a trash can that matched the refrigerator.

"Do you want me to throw this away somewhere else? It's pretty nasty..." He asked, holding the heavy milk jug up.

"Uhh...you can just throw it in there. The garbage people come in the morning so it won't be in there very long." The milk joined everything else with a loud clunk.

"Okay, I think that's it...We better get going. It's getting pretty late." Miley glanced at her watch, reflexively, and folded up her foot long grocery list, stuffing it into her purse, before flipping off the lights and opening the door.

At the grocery store, Miley and Oliver split up, having ripped the grocery list in half. Oliver found everything on the list with ease, and once he retrieved the last object on his list - orange juice - he went to go find Miley. She was talking to a man with a buzz cut and a leather jacket, standing in front of the butter, when he finally caught sight of her. She was smiling the smile she always used when she was flirting, and he could hear her laugh from several feet away. When she finally glanced up and saw him, she frowned at the man, said something, and waited while he reached into his pocket. He handed her a small piece of paper, and watched as she walked away, staring at her rear end the whole time.

"I'm back for a day and I've already got somebody's number." Miley told Oliver triumphantly, with a click of her tongue.

"Yay!" Oliver replied, with false exuberance. Miley scowled at him, and set the small basket she'd collected her groceries in inside the cart Oliver'd been carrying his in.

They reached the only open register at the same time that Mr. Buzz Cut did. Miley chatted with him for a moment, - Oliver made a point of not listening, as he felt uncomfortable witnessing this - before allowing him to go ahead of them.

Oliver stood at the front of the cart, behind Buzz Cut's cart, with his hand wrapped around the metal. He noticed that the guy Miley'd been flirting with had his eyes fixed to her chest, while she studied a magazine. When Miley was digging through her purse, for her debit card, and the man in front of them started unloading his groceries onto the belt, Oliver reached into his cart and stole one of the nameless man's oranges, before stuffing it into his pocket with a jubilant expression on his face.****


	2. Chapter 2

_**This story definitely got more attention than I thought it would. I'm pretty glad I ditched the other one and did this instead. It's funner to write and way less depressing. Keep up the good work, my reviewers!**_

* * *

Oliver wasn't gonna lie. He didn't want Miley to go on this date. He wasn't about to say it to her face though. He wasn't her dad, and he knew that's what she would accuse him of trying to be if he told her that he had a bad feeling about this guy. He could hear her voice in his head, just thinking about it.

"Are you sure you want to go on a date with that guy?" Oliver asked, trying to be sneaky about it.

"Why wouldn't I?" Miley called from her bedroom, where she was getting ready, while Oliver was trying to watch TV in the living room.

"I don't know...did you see his hair? It screamed creeper, if you ask me." So did the places on Miley's body that the guy's eyes had been glued to, but Oliver didn't mention that.

"Maybe I'm _not_ asking you." Miley replied jokingly.

"Maybe I'm gonna give you an answer anyway." He could hear Miley laugh; She was obviously going to go through with this.

"What do you think of this?" Miley asked, stepping out of her bedroom and into the living room for a moment, so that Oliver could give his opinion on her dress.

Oliver wasn't half the pervert that the guy from the grocery store - whose name had turned out to be Joseph Adams, Joe for short - was, but he couldn't help but stare at Miley's chest. It was like it was about to jump out of her dress like a suicidal man off of the roof of a building.

"Uhh..." Oliver was too busy thinking about things that made him extremely uncomfortable to answer her. "I...I don't like the color." Truth be told, he couldn't tell you what color the dress was, as that wasn't what he was paying attention to, but he wasn't about to let Mr. Joe Adams see Miley like that, and had to come up with some kind of excuse.

"Okay. I'll try the red one then." Miley decided, completely unaware of what Oliver had been doing. She went back into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, and Oliver was finally able to pay attention to the TV again.

"What about _this _one?" Miley asked, hopping excitedly through the doorway of her bedroom. Oliver turned around and looked over the back of the couch at her again. He was actually able to look at her face this time, so he gave her thumbs up.

"Much better."

"Okay, now you have to help me with my shoes." Miley insisted.

"Aww come on! I've done my fair share already!"

"Whatever. You're helping me or you can sleep downstairs on Mrs Donnelly's couch. She's got like five thousand crazy cat's. You wouldn't make it to midnight."

"Okay, shoes it is!" Oliver exclaimed, standing up and turning the TV off.

When Miley finally left, Oliver raided her refrigerator, pigging out on string cheese wrapped in bologna and some mint-filled Oreos he found in the cupboard under the toaster. He flipped through the channels on the TV for a while, but nothing was on, so he searched through the rest of the apartment. He found a couple brooms, a sewing machine, and a cardboard cutout of Hannah Montana from at least five years ago in the hall closet. The rest of the closets had things like raincoats, empty hangers, and cleaning supplies in them. The closet in the empty guest bedroom was completely empty, except for a filing cabinet, which, after some snooping, Oliver found to be full of statements and instruction manuals. He knew Miley wouldn't be happy if she found out he'd been in her room, as she was a girl who greatly enjoyed her privacy, but he looked around in there also.

Miley's room was a dark turquoise color. The blankets on her bed were a chocolate brown, and the headboard, along with all of the window trim and baseboards, were painted a shiny silver. Her room was spotless. There wasn't one little wrinkle in her bedsheets, and he could practically see his reflection in the hardwood floors. Oliver had never thought of Miley as a clean freak, but her room made him rethink that.

Opening the closet, Oliver expected it to be a different story. Miley was always in her closet, throwing stuff around. At her dad's house, it'd always been the messiest part of her room. When he opened the doors, however, it was just as spotless as her bedroom. And nearly empty. And small. There were a couple of shirts she's never be caught dead in, and some ugly skirts, hanging from some hangers, along with a couple of shoe boxes on the shelf above the clothes that obviously weren't Miley's. He pulled a box down, - it was heavier than he'd expected- and lifted the lid up. It was packed with pictures. Actual photographs. The kind you need film and a non-digital camera to take.

Just as Oliver was about to look through the photos, he heard the doors of the elevator outside the apartment open. He quickly shoved the lid back on the box, and pushed the box back onto the shelf, before running back into the living room, hopping over the back of the couch, and flipping the TV back on, just as the door opened.

"Oh my God, Oliver, it was so awful." Miley exclaimed, tossing her purse onto the kitchen counter.

"You mean he wasn't Prince Charming? Never would've guessed." Oliver replied, thinking about the day before.

"He was a total pervert. I thought high school boys were bad, but this guy..." She closed her eyes and shook her head, before deciding, "I need to go take a shower."

"Okay...have fun!" He called after her. He could almost hear her eyes rolling.

Oliver had only got to the first commercial break, before the water shut off. By the time the second commercial came to an end, Miley had come back out into the living room. Her hair was soaked, stuck to her head, and she was carrying a towel.

"Okay, so since Lilly's not here, you get to be my gossip buddy." She said, as she flipped her hair over her head and started drying it with the towel. The towel wasn't wide enough, and about three inches of Miley's hair stuck out of it. She unwrapped the towel and draped it over the back of the recliner perpendicular to the couch Oliver was sitting on. Sitting down next to him, Miley clasped her hands together, crossed her legs, and said,

"So like I was saying, he was a total sicko. He was okay when we got there, so I didn't run for the bathroom right away, but then we ordered our food, and I'm sitting there, and he goes " She tried and failed to lower her voice, to impersonate him, "'I saw at the grocery store that you like bananas. I have a banana. You wanna see how ripe it is?'" Her voice went back to normal. "And I almost puked in my mouth. And then he kept using fruit metaphors, for about half an hour, and then I just started fake sneezing, and I told him I was allergic to his sweater, and left. I am SO glad I'm out of there."

Oliver wanted badly to say "I told you so" but he'd never actually told her not to go, so he of course missed out.

"I'm sorry..." Oliver apologized. "Want a banana?" He grinned at her, until she punched him in the stomach. "Oww!"

"Don't do that! It wasn't funny! That guy could've been crazy! What if he'd followed me home?"

"I would scare him away, with my deadly weapons" Oliver bragged, flexing his muscles.

"Deadly weapons? You mean your breath?" He frowned, as Miley laughed.

"Whatever works." They were quiet for a moment, the only sound the water heater getting ready for the next shower.

"Oliver..." Miley broke the silence

"Yeah?"

"Why are you watching Dora the Explorer?"

"I'm not." He lied.

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not. This is...Laura the...Meteorologist."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Change the channel."

"No. I like this show." Oliver objected. Miley reached for the remote, but he held it above his head, since her arms weren't quite long enough to get to it.

"You do not. You're just being difficult."

"So what if I am? This is better than The Girl Channel, or whatever it is you want to watch."

"That's not even a channel!" Miley exclaimed, getting up on her knees to take the remote from him. He moved it at the last second, and she glared at him. "Give me the stinkin' remote!"

"No." Oliver replied, smiling.

"Yes!" Miley yelled, reaching for it again. Oliver shoved it under his rear end, so that he was sitting on it. "Oh, you can have it now."

"No, you can have it." He offered, handing it to her.

"No, you had it first."

"It's your remote."

"Yeah but this is your room." She told him.

"It's _your_ living room."

"Yeah but _you're _staying in it."

"Now you're being the difficult one."

"So." Miley replied, sticking her tongue out at him. Oliver sighed and changed the channel.

"Eww no, not this show. " He changed it again. "Again." He hit the channel button again. "Not this one." Once more he flipped the channel. This time Miley said nothing, so Oliver let go of the remote. They watched in silence for several minutes, until Miley exclaimed,

"Ewww! Gross! Change it!"

"What? No! I've changed it enough times!"

"That guy is eating Yak balls! That's disgusting! I don't want to watch that!"

"Maybe I do." Oliver objected, more interested in not giving in than the actual show. He didn't even know what show it was.

"Maybe you don't!" Miley grinned sweetly and held her hand out.

"No."

"_Yes._" Oliver held the remote away from her.

"No." He said again.

"_Yes!_" Miley yelled, leaning over him to reach for it. Oliver simply held it further away from her.

"No!"

"Give me the damn remote!" Miley yelled.

"_Ooooh!_" Oliver said dramatically.

"What?" Miley asked, annoyed. She sat back down on her side of the couch and crossed her arms, angrily, while waiting for Oliver's answer.

"You said a naughty word!" He told her, smiling.

"Oh, big deal."

"What would your dad think? I think he'd probably feed you to Yak man."

"If you don't give me the freaking remote Yak man's gonna be eating _your _balls next episode." Oliver froze, an uncomfortable expression on his face.

"Here you go!" He dropped the remote in Miley's lap. She changed the channel, and then kept changing it. She flipped through at least four hundred channels, before turning the TV off completely.

"There's nothing on. Wanna play a board game?"

"A board game? How old are you, eleven?"

"Yeah...give or take a decade." Oliver rolled his eyes and asked,

"What kind of board games do you have?" Miley got up, and ran out of the room, into her own.

"Every board game ever made!" She yelled from her bedroom. Oliver stood up, unsure as to if he was supposed to follow her or not.

"Are you coming or do I get to pick?" Miley yelled impatiently. Oliver hurried into her bedroom, afraid that he'd end up playing the My Little Pony version of Scrabble - or something like that - if he didn't give his opinion.

They took Clue, Tribond, and Monopoly out into the living room. Miley pushed the coffee table out of the way and sat down on the floor in front of the couch. She opened Monopoly, and quickly put the lid back on.

"What?" Oliver asked, confused.

"I forgot I let Mrs Donelly borrow this. Her cat's murdered the board." She held up a shredded piece of game board. It had the boardwalk on it.

"Oh. Why do you still have it, then?" He asked.

"Oliver it's Monopoly. You can't throw that away!"

"Yes you can. You just find a Monopoly sized garbage can. And if you can't you use a dumpster." Miley glared at him and opened up Clue. This time she took everything out and set it up. Oliver waited, sitting Indian style with his back to the TV.

"Who do you want to be? Colonel Mustard, Professor Plum, Mr. Green, Mrs. Peacock, or Mrs. White? I get to be Ms. Scarlet."

"Dang it." Oliver said sarcastically, as he grabbed the piece that was Colonel Mustard.

Oliver ended up going first, so he rolled the dice, and got two ones.

"Aww man." Miley smirked at him and grabbed the dice, after he'd moved his game piece. She rolled them and got two sixes. "What? Not fair!" Miley moved her pieces and told him,

"Life's not fair, Oliver."

They played the game for about 20 minutes, before Miley whispered,

"Oliver?"

"Yeah? He asked, while marking off his card. He looked up just as she asked,

"Have you always...had feelings for Lilly?"

"What?" He asked, confused. He didn't get why she was asking this.

"I just want to know." Oliver thought 'Why else would you be asking?' but didn't say that.

"Umm...no. Only that once...when we went out...I don't anymore."

"Okay." Miley replied solemnly, picking up the dice again.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked quietly, staring at he four and five Miley'd just rolled.

"I just...well. When you're the new kid, everybody always knows each other, so of course your friends are gonna be much closer to each other than they are to you. But...after a while...you and Lilly were just such great friends...you knew _everything _about each other. You always knew what the other was going to say...I just felt, kind of like a third wheel sometimes. It was almost like I was illiterate in a room of mind readers."

"Oh...Miley I'm sorry, I never meant to make you feel like that..." Oliver told her awkwardly. He wasn't so sure what he should say to make her feel better.

"No, it's okay. I just wanted to know if there was a reason, for how close you guys were."

"We grew up together, Miley. I mean, our moms were sworn enemies in school, so of course we had to be best friends the first day of Kindergarten." He smiled at her, and leaned back, supporting his weight with his hands. Miley laughed quietly, and said,

"Yeah. Okay. Umm...we should probably start playing the game again."

"Yeah." Oliver agreed, as Miley moved her piece.

It took them about half an hour to finish the game, and both of them were extremely tired by the time it was over.

"Oh of course. I'd be the killer. I"m _always _the killer. Just can't do anything right, can I?" Miley exclaimed, showing Oliver the cards that had been in the folder, one of which was Ms. Scarlet.

"Miles, that's not true. You do a lot of things right. You just can't play board games."

"No, Oliver, it really is true. I screw up everything. All the times we made a plan for something, I ruined it. I tripped over something, or accidentally pushed somebody out a window, or said something I shouldn't have, or treated somebody a way I shouldn't. I can't do anything right, and you know it's true." She wiped her watering eyes with the back of her hand, and laid down on the carpet.

"Miley..." Oliver said, trying to sound comforting. She started crying.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm ruining your night." Oliver stood up and moved to the couch, sitting down next to where Miley was laying.

"You're not ruining my night." He would've much rather done without the crying, but she wasn't going to stop if he didn't try to comfort her.

Miley sat up and leaned against Oliver, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I can't do anything right." She said again.

"Miley stop saying that."

"You know, I've never had a boyfriend for longer than a month."

"Really? Are you sure? What about Jake? The third time."

"Two weeks, six days."

"Travis? What about him? That _had _to be over a month.

"One day less than a month."

"Jeff?"

"Three weeks."

"That guy that always wore the striped shirts."

"What the hell Oliver? That only lasted like, two hours."

"Sorry. I couldn't think of anybody else." Miley wiped her eyes again, a tiny smile on her face.

"I'm sorry Oliver. I...I don't know why I'm doing this. I'm usually not so...overemotional."

"Miley it's fine." He assured her again. "You're just tired, you should go to bed."

"Yeah...you're right. I'll just..." She stood up, wiped her eyes again, and headed off to the bathroom. Oliver put all of the Clue game pieces back in the box, and took all three of the games into Miley's room, where he left them on the bed, before leaving to wait outside the bathroom door.

When Miley finally left the bathroom, she walked like a zombie to her bedroom. Oliver stepped into the bathroom and grabbed his tooth brush. He brushed his teeth, splashed some water in his face, and went to the guest room to change his clothes. Before going to bed through, he made sure to go by Miley's room. He pushed open the door and leaned into the dark room.

"Thanks again for letting me stay here, Miley."

"You're welcome." She said, although she had many more words in her head, dying to come out of her mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hii! I have nothing to say this time but wanted to say hi anyway._**

* * *

The next morning, Miley was awake before Oliver. She got dressed and circled the apartment a couple of times, before stopping in the kitchen to look through the refrigerator. The egg carton was empty, the milk was _almost_ empty, and the tub of butter felt too light to have much in it. Miley didn't use any of these items that often - although she definitely should've been drinking the milk - but she wanted something to do, so she decided to go to the grocery store. There was a big chance that Oliver would still be asleep when she got back, but Miley left a note anyway. She wrote "_You're a pig and I'm out of food. Went to the grocery store. You owe me food money." _on a napkin, left it on the counter, and slipped out the door in her flip-flops with her purse over her shoulder.

The grocery store was silent in the early morning. The only sound was that of the few shoppers inside opening and closing the doors of the freezers as they decided on which frozen pizza they wanted for dinner, and which kind of ice cream they wanted to devour during their dessert.

Of course, the shopping cart Miley chose was the one with the squeaky wheel. Unwilling to go back and exchange it, - the wheel hadn't started squeaking until she was halfway across the store - Miley slowly pushed her cart down the dairy isle, hoping that nobody would be disturbed by the noise she was making.

Miley stood in front of the milk, trying to decide which kind she should buy. Was 1% healthier than 2%? Did Skim have the same amount of calcium as Whole? These were the questions that plagued Miley Stewart when she had nothing better to do than ponder the benefits of drinking milk.

"I wouldn't buy that brand." A voice behind her said. Miley turned around, shocked by the sound of a voice in the noiseless grocery store.

There was a man standing directly behind her, holding a carton of eggs in one hand, with a bag of apples hanging from the other. He had shaggy brown hair, a five o'clock shadow - even though it couldn't be past 9 AM - and he was wearing a T-shirt with a picture of a mushroom on it, with the words "I'm a fun guy" above it. If not for his completely nonidentical face, Miley would say that he looked just like Oliver. He was built exactly the same way; not too skinny, but not overly muscular either. His matching haircut seemed to put the icing on the cake.

"What was that?" She asked Mr. Fungi, although she'd heard what he said.

"That brand of milk is pretty disgusting. I wouldn't suggest buying it." He pointed at the milk Miley had been staring at.

"Oh. Thank you." Miley said quietly, focusing on a different brand, still unsure on which one she was actually going to buy.

"Actually...There's nothing wrong with that milk." Nameless Grocery Store Man Number Two said.

"I know." Miley replied, a tiny smile curling up the corners of her mouth. The brand he'd pointed out was the one that she'd been buying for the past 3 years, ever since she moved out of her dad's house.

"I just wanted an excuse to talk to you." He admitted.

"I know." Miley replied, her smile expanding.

"I'm Christian." He introduced himself, switching the bag of apples he was holding in his hand to his other, so that he could extend his hand to shake Miley's. She shook it and said,

"Miley."

"That's a beautiful name." He complemented.

"You think so? Most people think it's a weird one."

"I think it's very unique." Christian assured her.

"Well...thank you." Miley said. He simply nodded, and they stood there in awkward silence for a moment. "Do you want my number?"

"Yeah, actually. I was trying to think of a way to ask for it without sounding like a creep." Christian confessed.

"Umm..." Miley dug through her purse for a piece of paper. She found one, scribbled her phone number on it, and handed it to him. "There you go."

"Thanks." He said, switching his apples back over to his other hand to take it from her. "I'll, uhh...I'll call you sometime. Hopefully the next time we meet I'll know what to say and it won't be so awkward."

"Sounds like a plan." Miley said, smiling. Christian smiled back and said,

"Well I better get going. I don't need my apples going bad before I pay for them."

"Yeah, you wouldn't want that." Miley agreed, finally reaching for a gallon of milk, keeping her eyes on Christian as he walked away.

The rest of Miley's journey through the grocery store was quick. She was out of there a mere four minutes after Christian had left, with a bag in one hand and a gallon of milk in the other. Not bothering to pop the trunk, Miley set them in the back seat of her car, and drove home.

When Miley opened her front door, the sound of music coming from the speakers of her stereo told her that Oliver was awake.

"Can't help myself I got to be, when the lights are shining down on me! I wanna feel the sun! So turn that walk into a run, gonna bring the party when I come! Sing it out if you wanna have some fun! And into the spotlight we will go! Follow me cause baby life's a show! Into the spotlight, you will see! It's the only place to be!" Miley's own voice came from the speakers at a nearly deafening volume, and Oliver was dancing along to it, standing in front of the stereo.

"OLIVER!" Miley shouted over the music. He turned around, surprised to see her, and quickly turned the volume down, embarrassed. "Where did you find that?" She questioned, noting the pile of CDs in his hand.

"In a box marked 'Firewood.'" He answered, as he watched Miley set her groceries on the counter.

"What were you doing in my closet?"

"I...got lost?" Oliver offered up the first explanation he could think of.

"Oh, I'm sure you did." Oliver's eyes had expanded to nearly twice their normal size the second Miley had caught him, and they still hadn't shrunk back down.

"Sorry..." Oliver apologized, trying not to show fear as Miley stepped toward him like a lion moving closer to it's prey.

"You don't have to apologize, I'm not mad." Miley told him. He immediately relaxed, and set the CDs back down on the table the stereo was sitting on. "Just...Oliver why are you even listening to this?"

"I...like it?" He made his explanation into a question, unsure if it was going to fly with her.

"Seriously? You still like this crap?" Miley asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"It's not crap. Miley, it's good." Oliver defended the music from the person who had created it.

"Okay, if you say so." She said, laughing. Miley turned around and proceeded to put the milk, eggs and butter into the refrigerator.

"It is. You're really talented, Miles."

"Yeah, sure I am. You're just saying that because you think that as my friend, you have to." Miley replied, slamming the refrigerator door shut.

"I'm not. Miley, I was a fan of your music before I knew it was you."

"Yeah but you were young and stupid back then." Miley replied

"Thanks..." Oliver mumbled. He moved into the kitchen, and put his arm around Miley's shoulder. "I may have been young and...stupid...but I could've wasted my young and stupid love on any other pop star. Believe me, there's worse out there. _Way _worse. Way _way way _worse."

Miley let a small smile appear on her face, but it quickly disappeared, and she said,

"There might be. But those people didn't brainwash thousands of young people into buying everything with her face on it."

"You did _not _brainwash people. They bought your stuff because they liked you. And they liked you because you made good music."

"But what if I did?" Miley whispered, completely serious.

"While we're on the subject of young and stupid-"

"We're not on the subject of young and stupid anymore." Miley interrupted.

"_While _we're on the subject of young and stupid..." Oliver frowned at her for discontinuing his sentence. "No offense, but when people started liking you...you weren't smart enough to be able to brainwash them. They didn't like you because you made them, they liked you because...they liked you."

"That's great logic Oliver. And thanks for calling me stupid." Miley shot back, sliding out from under his arm and walking into the living room. She sat down on the couch and put her head back, staring at the ceiling.

"I wasn't calling you stupid. What I meant is that you hadn't learned enough yet." Oliver defended himself.

"Same thing." Miley countered.

"Believe what you want. People didn't buy underwear with your face on it because they thought you stunk."

"That's actually kind of ironic..." Miley mumbled, as Oliver sat down next to her.

"So how was the grocery run?" Oliver asked, finally smart enough to know when to change the subject.

"Oh it was okay. I got the squeaky cart, but I gave a cute guy my number, so I guess that makes up for it."

"Another guy? Wow Miley. You at the grocery store is like Lance Bass at a gay bar." Oliver commented.

"Don't make fun of me. It's the only place I've been outside of here, Lilly's house, and Dad's since I got home."

They were silent for a moment, and that's when Miley noticed that the music was still playing. "Could you turn that off please?"

"Yeah. This song kind of sucks."

"_What? _Weren't you just going on and on about how talented I was?" Miley asked, faking that she was offended.

"...Wanna make cookies?" Oliver asked, excusing himself from answering as he ran back into the kitchen. He ripped open the cupboards and started pulling out the flour, sugar, salt, vanilla, and chocolate chips, before he opened the refrigerator and took out the items Miley had just brought home from the grocery store.

"You might need this." Miley told him, setting the cookbook she'd taken out of the drawer directly in front of her down on the counter.

"Right...Well...what do I do first?"

"Umm...you're gonna need a bowl. And a spoon unless you're gonna use your fingers. In which case I don't want any." Oliver took the bowl and spoon out, set them on the counter, and looked back up at Miley with a goofy smile.

"Just read the cookbook!" She exclaimed, laughing. She pushed it towards him, and he looked down at it, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear to keep it out of his face as he studied the book. Miley kept laughing, watching him do this.

"Wanna preheat the oven to 350?" He asked her, smiling his wacky smile again.

Miley didn't answer, but went over to the oven to do what he asked anyway. She turned around and stood right next to Oliver as he measured the brown sugar and poured it into the bowl. He moved on to the next few ingredients, and looked down for the spoon.

"Where's my spoon?" He asked. Miley answered, with a guilty smile on her face,

"I don't know."

"Give me the spoon Miley." Oliver ordered, holding his hand out.

"I don't have it Oliver. Honest." She lied, squeezing the spoon she'd been holding behind her back all this time, harder.

"Yes, because you're the Queen of Honesty." He replied, rolling his eyes.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Miley asked, faking that he'd hurt her feelings, so obviously that even Oliver knew she was kidding.

"Yes I am. Because I know you have the spoon behind your _back." _He leaped at her on the last word and tried to grab the spoon. She backed away and grinned at him, as he moved towards her again. Oliver kept reaching for the spoon, and Miley kept moving away. Finally, he charged at her, hit her in the stomach with his shoulder, and flipped her over. Kicking her legs, trying to get away, Miley still held the spoon away from him, as he tried to reach for it, even though she was balanced on his shoulder.

"Come on! Give me the spoon!" He yelled. Miley couldn't answer, as she was laughing too hard.

Oliver set Miley back down, and reached for the spoon again. This time she dropped it into her shirt.

"...I'll just get a different spoon." Oliver told her, even though he really wanted to reach in there and take the spoon from her.

Miley laughed, and just then, the phone rang. She reached for it, hit the talk button, and held it up to her ear. Oliver could feel his heart beating fast, and he took a deep breath.

"Hello?" She asked the person on the other end. "Oh, hi!" She said excitedly. Just then the spoon fell through her shirt and landed on the ground with a loud clang. Oliver bent over to pick it up, as Miley said, "No, It's not too soon. Is there a rule about that?"

Oliver went back to his cookies, and began stirring the ingredients that had been sitting there, waiting for him, all this time.

"Friday's good...7? Okay, I'll see you then! Bye!" Miley excitedly hung up the phone. "Guess who's going to the movies this Friday!"

"That guy downstairs, Bob, that works there?" Oliver jokingly guessed. He couldn't feel his heart beating so erratically anymore. Miley scrunched up her face at him, and stuck her tongue out.

"Me!" She then yelled excitedly.

"That was definitely my second guess."

"Oh, I'm sure." Miley replied, moving back to her position beside him.

"I don't think anybody's gonna want to eat Miley's Boob Sweat cookies." Oliver joked.

"My boobs do _not _sweat!" Miley defended. "And you could've washed the spoon."

"Mmhmm. Sure." Oliver teased, still stirring the cookie dough.

"Here. I think it's about time you add this." Miley told him, pushing the remaining ingredients towards him. Oliver measured and mixed them all in, finishing just as the oven beeped, telling them that it was preheated.

Once the cookies were in the oven, Miley and Oliver both sat down on the couch and fought over what to watch on TV until they were done. The TV was on the Discovery Health Channel when the oven beeped. Miley went to get the cookies, since Oliver was very engrossed in - and grossed out by- the TV show he was watching.

"Hmmm. These don't look so good." Miley commented.

"Why? What's wrong with them?" Oliver asked, getting up off the couch to see what she was talking about. He looked over her shoulder at the burnt and flattened cookies on the cookie sheet. They had to be six inches across, at least, and they were all welded together.

"Yeah we better throw those away."

...

The front door slammed shut late Friday night, waking Oliver, who was asleep on the couch.

Yelling "AHH! ROBBER!" and shooting straight up was his reflex reaction.

"Oliver, shut up. It's just me." Miley whispered, flipping on the lights.

"Oh." Oliver mumbled, rubbing his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness. "How was the date?"

"It was great. Which is why I can't go out with him again."

"Umm...how does that work?" Oliver asked, confused. He pulled his blanket over his lap to cover the pair of Spongebob boxers he was sleeping in.

"His name is Christian Riley." Miley told him.

"So? Is that supposed to ring a bell or something?"

"No." Miley replied, frustrated. "Miley Riley? If I ended up marrying that guy, I would get made fun of _so _bad!"

"So...your name matters more to you than he does?" Oliver asked, as Miley abruptly sat down on the couch, right on top of his feet. He pulled them out from under her as she asked,

"Who's side are you on?"

"There are sides?" Oliver asked, still a little dazed from just waking up.

"Maybe you're right. It's just a name."

"Yeah. Just a name." Oliver repeated. He didn't really know how he was right, as he hadn't exactly given her any advice.

"A horrible name, but still."

"Miley if you like the guy, you should go out with him again. Don't let his last name stop you. You could always do the hypen thing! 'Miley Stewart-Riley.' That doesn't sound as bad, does it?"

"I guess not." She mumbled.

"Besides, you've only been on one date. Who says you're gonna marry the guy?"

"You're right Oliver. Thank you." Miley told him. "When did you get so smart?"

"...It must have been the boob sweat cookie fumes." Oliver suggested. Miley laughed, and said,

"Sorry I woke you up. I'll try to be quiet. Goodnight Oliver." She got up from the couch and headed for the bathroom.

"Goodnight! See you in the morning!" Oliver yelled over his shoulder at her, before he got up from the couch to turn off the light Miley had left on.

Oliver laid back down on the couch, pulled his blanket back over him, and dreamed violent dreams all night, in which he beat up a guy named Christian Riley.

_**Oh, hey. I made a banner for this story. The link - along with the link for the banner I made for my Jiley - is in my profile if you wanna take a look.  
**_**_Reviews would be lovely! *Dorky smile*_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Hey guys, sorry I took my time with this one. I haven't quite been in the mood lately. I spent all of spring break writing depressing stuff, and then I couldn't make myself write this without making it all morbid... _**

**_Hopefully everybody who celebrates it had a great Easter. Mine was a little disturbing. But not bad. :p_**

**_Enjoy your late Easter present.=)_**

When Oliver woke the next morning, it was to the definition of energetic, "sitting" on the recliner across from him. Miley was lying with her head on one of the chair's armrests, and her legs crossed over the other one. She had a spoon in one hand and her ipod in the other, and appeared to be using the spoon in place of a microphone as she mimed singing along.

Seeing that Oliver was awake, a huge grin spread across Miley's face, and she exclaimed, rather loudly, as she was still listening to her ipod,

"Good morning!"

"Good...morning?" Oliver replied, accidentally adding a question mark to the end of his greeting, as he squinted into the sunlight that was radiating from the window behind Miley.

"Wanna go out for breakfast?" She asked. She pulled the earbuds out of her ears and wrapped them around her ipod, before shoving it into her sweatshirt pocket and standing up.

"Uhhh...sure?" Oliver replied, doing the question thing again.

"Yay! I need to get out of the house again. Last night was really the first time I'd been somewhere where they didn't sell bananas, frozen pizzas or Depends since I got back."

"You can't get bananas at fancy restaurants like that? That's a rip-off!" Oliver exclaimed, as excitedly as he could while rubbing his eyes.

"That wasn't my point, Oliver." Oliver simply smiled at her and stood up.

"Nice boxers. You make Spongebob look _good." _She kidded, as she watched him walk towards the bed-less guest bedroom.

"Thanks. So do you." Oliver replied in the same joking tone, bowing at her. Miley raised an eyebrow, looked down at her shirt, just to check, and said,

"I'm not wearing Spongebob."

"Well...if you were...it would look good on you." Oliver explained, turning back towards the guest room.

"Thank you, King of Complements." Miley shouted after him, when she finally got up out of her chair to put her spoon in the sink. She did the same as Oliver and went to her room to change her clothes.

Oliver looked out the window, and decided that with all that sun, it had to be warm enough for shorts. The last time he'd decided that, it had been extremely windy and abnormally cold outside, but he was going to risk it this time.

A pair of denim shorts and an olive green, white, and navy blue-striped polo made it onto Oliver's body, before he dug through the top shelf of the dresser for some socks. He had trouble finding a matching pair and ended up wearing one with a red stripe around the toes, and one without, figuring that nobody would notice, since he'd be wearing shoes.

Of course, Miley took ten times as long to get ready. Oliver'd been sitting on the couch, watching TV, for nearly half an hour before she came out of her bedroom.

"Okay, I'm ready!" She shouted, startling Oliver. He turned around and glared at her. His glare turned into a stare when he noticed what she was wearing. The plain black T-shirt wasn't that exciting, and neither were the jean shorts, but her legs were blindingly shiny. And long. Oliver didn't remember her legs being this long. He felt like a midget just looking at her. A very embarrassed midget. He could feel his face changing colors.

"_Finally. _We're gonna have to go out for lunch now, since it took you so long." Oliver mumbled, when he finally stopped himself from staring at Miley's smooth and shiny legs.

"It's not noon yet. It's still breakfast." Miley assured him, as she grabbed her purse and slipped the shoes she'd been holding onto her feet. "Are you coming?" She asked impatiently, as if she'd been the one waiting for a half hour.

Oliver stood up, tripped over his shoelace, caught himself, and followed her out the door, watching his shoe to make sure he didn't trip again, before he could get inside the elevator and tie the laces.

"So I had this weird dream last night, and it gave me an idea." Miley announced, when the waitress at the diner seated the two of them, gave them their menus, and took their drink orders.

"What was it about?" Oliver asked, even though he knew she was going to tell him even if he didn't ask. She'd tell him even if he'd said he didn't want to hear it.

"We were in my apartment, but where the balcony is, I had like, this huge magical floating back yard...and we were having a picnic. And you, me, Christian, Dad, Lilly, Jackson, and a bunch of other people that you wouldn't know and aren't really that important anyway, were all sitting on this gigantic red and white checkered blanket. But it wasn't a normal picnic. We weren't eating normal picnic food." She paused as the waitress brought them their drinks, and asked if they were ready to order. When she told the waitress that they'd need a few more minutes, Miley continued. "We were eating fish. And not like, cooked fish...live fish. With the scales and everything. It was so weird." She explained.

"And what idea did this give you? We're not eating live animals for dinner, are we? If we are, I'm going out for dinner." Oliver replied jokingly.

"No." Miley squinted at him and stuck her tongue out. "I thought that maybe we should have like...a cookout kind of thing, at the apartment. Just for fun. It's been a while since we've done something like that, you know? And I figured it'd be a good time for my dad to meet Christian...if he's distracted by food he won't think to scare him off!"

"...Yeah, that sounds fun." Oliver commented, unenthusiastically.

"What's wrong?" Miley asked, immediately noticing his tone.

"Nothing. I'm just really hungry and the waitress is taking forever." He lied.

"She just gave us our drinks like, two minutes ago. We haven't even ordered yet." Oliver didn't say anything, and took a drink from his glass.

"Come on Oliver. I know you well enough to know something's wrong. Don't lie to me. I'm at liberty to change the locks to my apartment if I so wish."

"It's nothing. I'm just...kind of nervous." It wasn't _really _a lie, but then again, this wasn't the reason that he was acting the way he was.

"Nervous about what?" Miley asked, sticking her index and middle finger between the pages of the menu in front of her, and using them to flip it open and closed over and over.

"I have to meet with some people at Atlantic today..."

"And you're nervous? Why? You've never been this nervous about singing before."

"Do you have any idea how many times I've been turned down, this year alone?" Oliver replied, bitterly. Miley stopped playing with the menu and clasped her hands in front of her, on the table.

"I'm sorry Oliver, I didn't mean to-" She started to say, quietly, before he cut her off.

"It's fine Miley. It's not a big deal. Maybe I'm not supposed to do this. Maybe I don't have enough talent." Oliver looked up to see the waitress looking at them.

"Oh come on Oliver. You have a hundred times more talent than I do, and look where _I_ got."

"Stop saying that Miley. You're really good, and you know it. Quit saying that just to make me feel better. It's not working."

"That's not what I'm doing Oliver. You don't have to get that way. I'm telling you what I think, and if my thoughts aren't good enough for you...then you can move out." The waitress had started walking towards them, but she stopped when she noticed the unhappy expressions on both customers' faces.

"But you don't really think that." Oliver shot back.

"How do you know that? Are you me? Can you read my mind? How do you know that I don't think that?" Miley defended herself.

"Fine. You're right, I'm wrong. Can we order now?" Oliver replied impatiently. Miley looked as if she were about to say no, and continue arguing with him, but she closed her mouth at the last second, rubbed her eyes like she was tired, - when she'd just been bouncing off the walls ten minutes earlier - and said one word.

"Sure."

...

Miley stood behind the door, waiting for the doorknob to turn, like it should be doing any minute. It wasn't moving. Did this mean something bad? No, maybe it meant something good. Maybe they liked him so much they made him stay. That made sense, didn't it?

_Click_

The key went in the door from the other side, but before the person on the other side could turn it, Miley threw the door open.

"How'd it go?" She asked excitedly, until she saw the disappointed expression on Oliver's face.

"It didn't go at all." He answered, his voice matching his face.

"Oh...I'm sorry Oliver. Maybe next time..."

"I don't think there's gonna be a next time. It's probably time to give up." He told her, closing the door behind him. "And don't try to convince me not to, Miley."

"How'd you know I was going to?" Miley asked, resting her right hand on her hip. Oliver raised an eyebrow and slipped his shoes off, leaving them next to the door.

"Oh come on. If you give up, how do you know the next time wouldn't be it? You _have _to keep trying."

"I'm tired of trying. Maybe I can get a job at McDonald's, flipping burgers. Unless I'm "Not what they're looking for" either." Miley frowned at him.

"Nobody said it was going to be easy, Oliver. It's hard. Really hard."

"It wasn't for you." He mumbled, passing by her, into the living room. He sat down with a loud thump, on the couch.

"Are you kidding? I went through the same thing, Oliver. They only gave me a chance when I told them who my dad was. They'd take one look at me and say no, every time. Nobody wanted to listen to a 12 year old girl sing."

"Too bad I don't have a famous dad then." Oliver remarked. "Can we just stop talking about this?" Miley nodded slowly.

"Get up." She ordered.

"Why? Oliver questioned, staying seated.

"Because. I want to give you a hug." She explained, motioning with her hands for him to stand up.

"Why?"

"Because! Get off the couch, lazyass." She ordered, smiling. Oliver rolled his eyes and stood up, letting Miley wrap her arms around him. He reluctantly placed his own arms around her, as she whispered, "You'll make it. I'm sure."

"Thanks, Miley...For letting me stay here...and being as supportive as you are. It's not very you..." He let out a quiet laugh, "but thanks anyway." Oliver let go of Miley when she loosened her grip on him, and then she pulled herself out of the hug.

"No problem. Want a cookie?" She asked, turning around to get one from the kitchen without waiting for his answer.

"Sure!" Oliver replied excitedly, back to his old self. He ran after her into the kitchen and snatched a cookie out of her hand.

"Hey! That one was mine!" She complained bitterly.

"Whats the difference?" He asked, taking a bite out of it.

"I was gonna give you one of the squished ones."

"Oh thanks. I'm sure the non-squished ones taste way different." Miley glared at him and took a bite from a deformed cookie, while Oliver smiled, his mouth full of cookie crumbs.

...

"Oliver can you get the door?" Miley yelled out to the living room, from the bathroom, where she was curling her eyelashes. He yelled back a jumbled response, and left the kitchen, where he was stealing bites of the food Miley'd set out for the cookout.

The person on the other side of the door knocked again, impatiently. Oliver threw the door open, and saw a guy he didn't recognize. That wasn't that rare, as Miley had made several friends in the last several years that Oliver had never met.

This one was a guy, dressed from head to toe in blue. Blue shirt, blue jeans...blue sandals. His face was more red, which went along well with the annoyed expression on his face.

"Christian!" Miley exclaimed, finally finishing her hair and make-up.

"Hey Miley. Who's that?" He asked her quietly, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pointing rudely at Oliver, as if he were a thing, rather than a person.

"This my roommate I was telling you about. Oliver, this is Christian. Christian, Oliver" She introduced them, formally.

"Oh..." Christian replied, sounding disappointed.

"The grill's out on the balcony. If you two could start the burgers, that would be great." She put both thumbs up, and grinned stupidly.

"Yeah...I can do that." Christian told her, giving her an equally stupid flirty face. He went out to the small balcony, housing Miley's not-so-great looking barbecue grill.

"You'd think with an apartment like this, she'd have a nicer grill..." Christian mumbled exactly what Oliver had thought the first time he'd seen it.

"Yeah..." Oliver replied, uncomfortably.

"Did you bring the burgers?" Christian asked, looking up at him, like it had been Oliver that had said he'd do the grilling.

"No..."

"Then go get them." Oliver kept the horrified expression off his face until he'd turned around to go get the meat. How could Miley be with a guy this rude?

Oliver grabbed the plate with the already-made patties out of the refigerator, searched through a drawer for a spatula, and reluctantly took them out to the balcony, walking as slowly as he could, so as to stay away from Christian for as long as he could.

He set the plate on the grill, and looked at Christian, who had a look on his face that suggested that he expected Oliver to do all the work.

Rolling his eyes, Oliver lit up the grill and started grilling the patties.

"So..."Christian started to say. Oliver braced himself for a rude comment. "How well do you know my Miley?" Oliver could've done without the 'my' but it could have been worse.

"We've been friends for about ten years, I think." Oliver answered honestly.

"Friends?" He questioned, raising one of his overly thick eyebrows.

"Yes..." Oliver replied, looking away.

"Really?" He asked, elbowing Oliver in the side. Oliver almost tossed one of the hot hamburger patties in Christian's face, but he stopped himself.

"_Yes_, really."

"Oh." Christian had a highly disbelieving tone to his voice, but he didn't press Oliver any further, thankfully.

There was another knock at the door, and Miley went to answer it, letting her dad in, before they both joined Oliver and Christian, and Miley introduced her new boyfriend to her dad.

When Lilly showed up, Oliver ditched Miley and Christian to go complain to her.

"That guy is horrible! I have never met anybody so rude in my life."

"So you haven't met you yet?" Lilly asked, stuffing one of Miley's cookies - which hadn't been set out for the cookout - into her mouth.

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm not rude." Oliver defended himself.

"I know. That was the best way I could think of to make fun of you, though." Lilly confessed.

"I hope somebody interesting shows up. This party is torture. I already had to grill all the burgers, even though _He _told Miley he'd do it." Oliver complained.

"I'm not interesting?" Lilly asked, pretending that he'd hurt her feelings.

"No."

"Well _sorry._" Lilly mumbled, grabbing another cookie.

The only semi-interesting person that ended up showing up was Jackson, so he, Oliver, Lilly, Miley, Miley's dad, Christian, and several of Miley's unknown, unnamed friends ended up sitting in the living room, talking about Miley's trip to Paris. Oliver didn't find it quite as interesting as everybody else, and could care less about how many shoes she'd bought, so he left the room and went to use the bathroom when they got to that part of the conversation.

When he went to wash his hands, Oliver tripped over the rug, and caught himself on the medicine cabinet Miley had forbid him from looking inside of, popping it open. A bottle of pills fell out, and rolled around in the sink until Oliver picked it up and stared at the label. He glanced at the door, then back at the label, before putting the bottle back in the cabinet, and going back out to the living room, where he stayed relatively quiet for the rest of the night.

_**Ack. I hope you enjoyed this chapter...because theres a great possibility that you wont get another ontil school's out for the summer. I'm going back to work, and since pretty much everybody else quit...I've got a buttload of hours. And that along with a certain someone who's taking up the rest of my time, makes it hard to update as often.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Ackkk. Being a responsible young adult SUCKS. I hate working. You guys are lucky that writing doesn't involve standing, because I do enough of that at in H - E - double hockey sticks. 7 hours of continuous standing kills the feetsies.**

**So even though I am exhausted and hating life at the moment...I'm gonna attempt to write a halfway decent chapter. If you're reading this, it means I was successful. =D**

Now that Miley had a boyfriend, she spent much of her time away from the apartment, which meant that Oliver was left alone quite often. He didn't mind at first, but after a couple of weeks of it, he'd run out of things to do, and grew bored very quickly. Nothing seemed to be on TV anymore, and since Miley was spending her time away from the grocery store - since she'd met enough guys there for the time-being - the food supply was growing scarce. Lilly was taking some classes at the community college**, **and therefore spent her time on much more important things. Jackson had graduated, and now had to work, so he wasn't much fun anymore.

Oliver's days now consisted of waking up, searching through the fridge for something edible to eat for breakfast, saying goodbye to Miley as she left to go somewhere with Christian, watching TV, getting more food, watching more TV, reading through Miley's magazines, getting more food, going for a walk to burn off all the food he'd eaten, greeting Miley when she came back home, tuning her out as she talked about Christian, watching more TV, saying goodnight to Miley - who was too tired to stay up late - and then going to bed himself.

It had been nearly three weeks now, since Miley and Oliver had had a two-sided conversation that had lasted for more then ten minutes.

It was nearing dinner time on a Wednesday night, and Miley was lying face down on her bed, with her arms spread out, reaching for both sides of it. She wasn't snoring, so Oliver knew she was awake. Miley's new-found snoring problem had kept him awake for several nights now, and he could definitely tell when she was awake and when she wasn't.

"Miley?" Oliver mumbled from the doorway.

"Wha?" The ending of her word had gotten lost in the blanket she was burying her face in.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?" She asked, turning her face to the left so that she could see him.

"I don't know...we haven't really seen much of each other for a while. I kind of miss having you around." He admitted. "It's like you don't have time for me anymore. Nobody does." Miley sat up, frowning, and crossed her legs.

"I'm sorry Oliver." She said quietly, motioning for him to sit on the end of her bed. He sat down, with his legs crossed just like hers. "I have a hard time balancing the time I spend with people...I'm still not used to having so much time to myself, you know? When I was still Hannah...I didn't have anywhere near this much time to spend with my friends, or my boyfriend. I'm still adjusting...I'm sorry Oliver, I'll try to stay home a little more." Miley apologized.

"You don't have to apologize."

"I want to." Miley replied, squinting at him in a don't-tell-me-what-to-do way that was very familiar.

"You know what would make it up to me?" Oliver asked, smiling.

"What?" Miley asked, reluctantly.

"Food. Your refrigerator is about as empty as Lilly's head." Miley laughed, rolling her eyes, and leaned forward to slap Oliver's knee.

"I can order some Chinese, if you want." Miley suggested. "But that's your only choice. Because I say so, if you're wondering why." She grinned at him.

"Chinese is fine with me. As long as you don't order it from the one across from the movie theater. Every time I tell the waiter I want more rice, he brings me ranch dressing. I don't have a clue where he gets it...There's not a salad bar for at least two blocks."

"But they have the best rice in town!" Miley complained, grabbing the phone.

"Which is why I ask for more!"

"I'll make sure I get a waiter that speaks English." She assured him, as she dialed the number she'd called so many times, she had it memorized.

...

"No salad dressing. I'm impressed." Oliver said, as he looked through the takeout containers, before eating.

"I'm just better at ordering food than you." Miley gave him an explanation, as she snatched the container of rice from Oliver's hands.

"Oh yeah, cause you definitely look like you've got the experience." Oliver commented.

"Years of running after your annoying, thieving, older brother does wonders for your metabolism"

"I'm sure it does." Oliver commented, running out of things to say.

"Oh I forgot to ask! How'd that meeting with the people at Jive go yesterday?" Miley asked, offering Oliver the rice in exchange for the chicken he'd been holding.

"Uhh...well, they didn't insult me before I started singing, like most of the other labels...So that's good...but I haven't got a call yet."

"I'm sure they loved you." Miley assured him, placing a piece of chicken in her mouth, using her chopsticks.

"Yeah, well, nobody else did." Knowing there was no use arguing about it, Miley just rolled her eyes.

"Let's play a game!" She 'suggested,' leaping off of the bed and leaving the room.

"Can I finish eating first?" Oliver called after her, stuffing some more rice into his mouth.

"No!" She yelled back, before appearing in the doorway once again, with two notebooks and a couple of pencils in her hands. She slumped back down on the bed and handed Oliver one of each.

"What are we playing?" He wondered out loud. Miley smiled and answered,

"The Opinion Game."

"What the heck is that?" Oliver questioned, opening the notebook in his lap.

"You ask me my opinion on something, I tell you, and if my opinion is the same as yours, I get a point. And the other way around." She explained, crossing her legs once again and setting her own notebook on her lap. She held her writing utensil between her index and middle finger, and flicked it back and forth, the way she always had when she was bored in school.

"I've never heard of that before..."

"That's okay, I'm gonna win anyway." She persuaded him.

"Then why am I even playing?" Oliver complained, reaching for the chicken he'd set down next to him when Miley had handed him his notebook and pencil.

"Because it's fun. Quit complaining." She squinted at him, and started the game. "Okay. What's your opinion on...Oh, you're scoring me and I'm scoring you, by the way. And no questions about things you know we have different opinions on. That's cheating."

"Am I supposed to be taking notes?" Oliver asked, pressing his pencil to the paper. Miley rolled her eyes, and started her turn again.

"What's your opinion on...chocolate milk?" She asked. Oliver immediately answered,

"It's the greatest of all milks."

"No points for you!" Miley exclaimed, smiling.

"You don't like chocolate milk? What is wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with not liking chocolate milk." Miley said, dropping her pencil in her lap and crossing her arms, defiantly.

"Yes there is! You're discriminating against brown cows!" Oliver defended himself.

"Wow. There's no hiding that you grew up in the city, boy." Miley said, patting his knee. "It's your turn now, Mr. Sore Loser."

"Fine. What's your opinion on...uhhh....ummm..."

"Pick something already! It's not that hard." Miley yelled impatiently, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Well _okay_. What's your opinion on..." He glanced out the door and into the living room. The first thing he saw was Miley's stereo. "music." Miley rolled her eyes and said,

"Just give me a point. You know our opinion's the same." Oliver unwillingly added a line under where he'd written Miley's name at the top of the paper, to symbolize the amount of points she had.

"Gosh, I suck at this game already." He whined, looking back up from the score sheet.

"You don't suck. I just rock way more than you do."

"Like that's any better." Miley smiled, and - keeping the game going - asked,

"What's your opinion of the color yellow?"

"It washes you out." He answered almost reflexively. Miley glared and smacked him on the leg with her notebook several times. "I was just kidding!" He insisted.

"Sure you were." She continued staring, one of her eyes open a little more than the other. "You get a point though." She practically stabbed her paper, adding a tally to Oliver's score. "We're tied now." Oliver smiled and continued with:

"What's your opinion of...Lilly's couch?"

"The last time I sat on it, it smelled kind of like cat pee."

"And another point for Miley." Oliver mumbled, adding another tally to Miley's score.

"Yay!" Miley cheered, jubilantly waving her hands in the air. Oliver scrunched his eyes up. "What? I told you I'd win. You can't say you weren't warned."

"I quit."

"No! Don't quit! Quitting is for...quitters." Miley gave him a real gem, in attempt to make him keep playing the game.

"Wow Miley. That realization has changed my life forever."

"You're welcome. You can thank me by playing just a little longer." Oliver shrugged, giving in, and Miley grinned at him. She then looked up at the ceiling, like she was trying to think of one more question. "Okay. Ummm...What do you think of...uhhh...What do you think of..._Christian._" The way she sounded when she said her boyfriend's name suggested that she knew that Oliver wouldn't be getting a point for this one.

"I....uhhh..." By the sheer glory of God, Oliver was saved from answering by the phone ringing. Although there was a ninety nine percent chance that it wasn't for him, Oliver practically leapt at the phone. He pressed the talk button and held it to his ear.

"Hello?" He greeted. Miley sat quietly on the bed, watching him. "Yes, this is he." Oliver replied, sounding very professional and totally un-Oliver. "Yes? ...Oh." The wary smile that had been on Oliver's face when he answered quickly disappeared. Miley reached out and grabbed a hold of his free hand, to comfort him. She didn't know for sure what the call was about, but she had a feeling. "No, I understand. Tell him I'm sorry for wasting his time." He said goodbye and hung up, his voice strangely quiet.

"What happened?" Miley did want to ask who it was, or what they'd said, at the risk of sounding insensitive, but she wanted to say _something. _

"That was the president of Jive Records' secretary. Apparently during these "difficult economic times" they can't afford to give record deals to people they're not positive about. I guess they don't think I would get anywhere."

"Oh, Oliver! I'm so sorry!" Miley leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. Oliver reluctantly put his arms loosely around her body.

"It's fine. I didn't expect anything anyway. I'm used to disappointment." He said solemnly. Miley squeezed him tighter. Oliver paid a lot more attention to the feeling of her breath on his neck than to the words she was saying.

Neither one of them really took any notice to how long they'd been hugging, as one of them just wanted to make her friend feel better, and the other was enjoying it. The hugging only stopped when the sound of the voice Oliver dreaded most echoed through the apartment.

"Miley?" Christian called. Sadly, Miley'd given her stupid jerk of a boyfriend a key to her appartment, so even though the phone was only inches away from his hand, Oliver didn't have the right to call the police and report him.

Miley seemed much more shocked to hear Christian's voice in her apartment than Oliver was, as she fell off the bed in shock at the sound of him calling her name. And since her arms were still wrapped around Oliver, she pulled him down on top of her. She let out a yelp as she hit the ground and Oliver fell on top, alerting Christian to her location. Oliver quickly rolled off of her, his face red, and Miley sat up, poking her head up over the edge of the bed.

"Hi." She said, smiling.

"What are you doing in here?" Christian asked, in his nice guy voice. The second Oliver's head popped up next to Miley's, Christian's face fell.

"What is he doing in here?" He asked. His tone of voice had completely changed, and he now sounded angry.

"Oh we were just playing a game and you scared us so we fell off the bed." The expression on Miley's face suggested that she realized how fake her story sounded when she said it out loud.

"I'm sure." Christian was still staring at Oliver, which he took as his cue to leave.

"I'll go put these in the fridge..." Oliver said, grabbing the leftover Chinese food that had been sitting cold for a while now. He passed by Christian, and only when he was out of the room did Miley's boyfriend stop staring at him.

From the kitchen, Oliver could hear the two of them shouting, behind the closed doors. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to frown or smile. On one hand, it meant they were closer to breaking up, and no more Christian was worth a smile. On the other, however, a breakup would mean a rather depressed Miley, and that was never a good thing. Miley tended to be twice as mean when she was upset. Oliver _was still _growing back his chest hair, three years after they'd graduated high school.

Unaware that he was doing it, Oliver finished eating all of the leftover Chinese food, bite by bite, as he listened to Miley and Christian argue. Christian was definitely the jealous type. For the past ten minutes, Miley had been trying - unsuccessfully - to convince him that she wasn't cheating on him with Oliver. The thought of it made Oliver laugh. Like Miley would ever cheat on Christian. Especially with him.

Christian left angrily about fifteen minutes after he'd so rudely interrupted Miley and Oliver's game. Miley didn't come out of her room for another ten minutes, and by then, Oliver was laying on the couch, taking the entire thing up as he stared at the blank television screen, thinking about his umpteenth rejection.

"I'm sorry you had to listen to that." Miley apologized, wiping her eyes as she sat down in the recliner.

"It's okay. I'm sorry it had to happen. It was kind of my fault."

"It wasn't your fault Oliver. He's a naturally jealous guy." Oliver didn't feel up to arguing with her, so he said nothing.

Miley dug the stereo remote out of the crack in the recliner and turned to face it, putting her feet up on the arm rest closet to it, and resting her head on the opposite one. She flipped the stereo on, and flipped through the stations.

"_Who's gonna hold me tonight, when I'm feeling lonely? Who's gonna show me the light? 'Cause I need to know, with all the things we've got, how can love just stop?_" Miley quickly changed the station.

"_I've changed the presets in my truck, so those old songs don't sneak up, but they still find me, and remind me. Yeah you come back that easy._" The radio sang, on yet another bad station choice.

"This one doesn't work either." Oliver commented.

"Yeah..." Miley mumbled, changing the station again.

_"Stacks on deck, Patron on ice. We can pop bottles all night, baby you can have whatever you like._" Miley glanced at Oliver and hit the power button, tired of risking another station.

"You never told me what your opinion of Christian was. I guess now's not really a good time to ask..._My_ opinion of him isn't even that great at the moment."

"I don't think you'd like my opinion very much." Oliver admitted.

"Why not?" She asked, crossing her legs. She stared out the window to her right, at the setting sun, and glanced back at Oliver. He rubbed his tired eyes and mumbled,

"It's not important."

"You don't like him very much, do you?" Miley's question was more of a statement.

"No I don't. But I think he hates me a _whole lot _more than I hate him."

"Why don't you like him?"

"It doesn't matter Miley." Oliver insisted, trying to get her to lay off of him.

"You must think I have horrible tastes in guys. Maybe I do. None of my relationships ever work out. Nothing I _ever do _works out. I can't do anything right, can I?"

"Miley stop doing that. You _do _do things right." Oliver was growing annoyed of how little she respected herself. Everybody put themselves down once in a while. Especially him. But every time they'd talk about her, it couldn't be a good thing. It seemed like the way she saw it, there was nothing good about her.

"Stop doing what? Telling the truth? Name one time I've done something right. Name _one time _something has worked out the way I wanted it to." Miley had tears in her eyes, and her face was turning red.

"Stop putting yourself down. That's what. Just go take one of your Lexapro and get over it." Oliver let slip his knowledge of her medication.

"...How do you know about that?" Miley asked quietly.

"I found them accidentally." Oliver knew lying about it wouldn't get him anywhere, so he told her what had happened, in hopes that she wouldn't be upset about it. "I know you haven't been taking them. The date on the bottle is the first of last month, and you haven't even opened it yet."

"That's none of your business." Miley sputtered, getting out of her seat.

"I'm sorry Miley. I wasn't looking through your medicine cabinet. It just fell out."

"I'm sure it did." She said bitterly, stomping off into her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

"I really am sorry, Miley." Oliver said through the door. She didn't respond, but he hadn't expected her to.

Deciding that it was best to leave her alone until the morning, Oliver got ready for bed, brushing his teeth, changing out of his clothes, and spreading his blanket out on the couch. He got a drink from the kitchen sink, and stared across the living room at Miley's bedroom door. A ray of moonlight was hitting the door level with the doorknob. It was almost like it was trying to tell him something.

"If you really want to know why I don't like him..." He started to say, even though she probably couldn't hear him. He lowered his voice and ended his statement with "It's because he's keeping the one thing I really want out of my reach."


	6. Chapter 6

**I survived April 28th! And April 29th! And April 30th! And all the days after it. Haha. Yeah my school has morphed into a maximum security prison due to a little prank somebody played in the form of a threat (second in a week) written on the bathroom wall. So there's like a dozen state cops hanging around, and we get searched every time we enter the school, and...yeah. This is weird because I live in a small town and my high school consists of approximately 304 students. **

**I also survived work. Which is a wonder. I work 7 hour shifts, and I've worked 3 to 10 since Thursday. When you add school I get like two hours at home where I'm actually awake. ****If my paycheck is under one million, I'll be severely disappointed. Ha.**

**Anyway, here you go. **

When Oliver woke up in the morning, Miley was gone. There was no note this time; not that he had expected one. Her purse was still on the kitchen counter though, which meant that she couldn't have gone far. That or she'd been kidnapped. Everything was clean and there was no ransom note, so the latter seemed highly unlikely.

This early in the morning there was nothing on TV except for Soap Operas, which -unbeknownst to everyone but his grandmother, Lilly, and Miley - Oliver actually kind of enjoyed watching.

Oliver spent most of his time that morning listening to one of the soap operas he hadn't seen in a year or two, while he tried to concoct something edible. Miley _still _hadn't gone grocery shopping, so there wasn't much left. Mostly a jar of peanut butter, the last few pieces of a loaf of bread, and some pickles. A peanut butter and pickle sandwich seemed to be on the menu today. Either that or car theft. Miley either hadn't taken her car, or she knew how to hot-wire one, since her keys were on the counter next to her purse.

Glancing up at the TV again, Oliver was suddenly glad he hadn't been following any of his soap operas for a while. Apparently a new character had moved to the neighborhood. One that looked almost exactly like Miley. Miley, of course, was prettier than this girl, but they had a similar voice, and their faces were almost identical.

Oliver changed the channel and finished making his peanut butter and pickle sandwich. When he finally sat down to eat it, Manswers was on, so he watched that instead. Oliver felt that it made up for what he'd been watching just minutes earlier.

_Of course_, Oliver was learning if you could die while pooping when Miley came home. She took one look at the TV, one look at Oliver, and went straight to her room. She probably would have done the same thing if he'd been watching anything else, but Oliver still lowered the volume and changed the channel to something she might approve of, before going to talk to her.

Her door was locked, so he knocked. There was no reply.

"Miley. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." She still didn't say anything. "There's nothing wrong with being on medication." Without a word, the door cracked open. Miley was standing behind it, squinting the way she did when she wasn't trying to hide how upset she was.

"If there's nothing wrong with it, why did you use it as an insult?" Her voice was barely audible.

"It wasn't an insult." Oliver insisted.

"Then what was it?" She asked. Oliver said nothing, and she looked more disappointed, if that was possible.

Miley closed the door in Oliver's face.

...

The days went by and Miley and Oliver didn't speak. You'd need a jack hammer to break through the animosity between them. No matter how much Oliver apologized, Miley wouldn't accept it, or even acknowledge that he was trying to get her to forgive him. Oliver hadn't heard her voice more than once in the past week, and that one time had been when he'd overheard her on the phone with Christian. She'd been substantially silent since their fight, whenever she was home. Miley spent a lot of time out of the apartment, and Oliver spent quite a bit of his inside of it, apart from his unsuccessful meetings with two more record labels unwilling to give him a deal.

After a week and a half of this, Oliver grew tired of the lack of social interaction, so he stopped by Lilly's house.

"You _did_ insult her Oliver. She was embarrassed to be on those pills because of how she thought people would react when they found out." Lilly obviously was not on Oliver's side this time.

"You knew? Why didn't she tell me?" Oliver asked, shocked. All this time, he'd thought that he'd known a secret, but apparently the rest of the world had known all along.

"She didn't tell you because she knew you'd react the way you did, that's why. I tried to convince her that you wouldn't make a big deal out of it, but you had to go ruin it for me. Thanks a lot." She rolled her eyes and sat down at her kitchen table.

"I didn't make a big deal out of it!" Oliver argued, taking up temporary residence in the seat across from her.

"Yeah. That's why you told her to "take a freaking Lexapro and chill out."" Lilly said, using air quotes.

"That is not what I said. I told her to take one of her Lexapro and get over it."

"Same thing." Lilly argued, opening the book on top of the stack sitting in front of her.

"Whatever." Oliver denied, as he watched Lilly study.

"Did you come here expecting sympathy?" She asked, after a moment of silence.

"_No._" Oliver lied, glancing out the window to his right.

"Then why are you here?" She asked, setting the highlighter she had been holding into the space between the page on the left and the page on the right. "Another question you can't answer, right?"

"Who are you, Miley's clone?" Oliver asked bitterly.

"Nope. Just a girl who knows you very well." Lilly said, picking up her highlighter again, which Oliver took as his cue to leave.

...

Thursday afternoon, while Miley was finally out grocery shopping, Oliver sat on the couch with Miley's guitar in his hands. If she caught him with it she'd probably strangle him with one of the strings, but Oliver was willing to risk that.

Lately, when Miley was out, Oliver had been using her guitar to try to teach himself how to play. Today he was messing around with the songs from his demo, seeing if he could change them at all; if he could find a way to impress the label people.

He'd only been successful with one song. None of the other ones sounded any better when he changed them.

Miley would be back within the next ten minutes, Oliver decided, if she didn't take longer than she usually did to get the groceries, so he took the guitar back to her room, and placed it in her closet, where he'd taken it from. Just as he was turning to leave, Oliver spotted the boxes he'd started snooping through right after he'd moved in. He'd almost forgot about them, as he hadn't been snooping in Miley's room much lately, except for when he was stealing her guitar.

Oliver held his breath for a minute, listening for any sign that Miley was coming, and when he didn't hear one, he let out his breath and took one of the boxes down. He took the lid off and sat down on the floor of Miley's closet. There were several dozen pictures of Miley's family, back before they'd moved to Malibu. Oliver knew this because Miley's mom was in all of them. The pictures weren't in any particular order, and ranged from when Miley was a baby, to when she was about ten or eleven. Oliver quickly flipped through almost all of them, before he grabbed another box and replaced it with the one he'd just been looking through.

This one was a little more exciting, as Oliver either was there, or remembered a lot of the events that had been photographed. This box was filled with Hannah pictures. The pictures in the front of the box were from the beginning of Miley's music career. She had a humongous smile on her face in every single one of them. The rest of the box was a conglomeration of pictures from then until just before Miley's trip to Paris, when she'd ended her Hannah career. By that time she looked a lot less happy, and Oliver could tell every smile was fake.

Looking through these pictures made Oliver wonder how long Miley had been on antidepressants. She looked as if she'd needed them for a couple years, now.

There was a knock at the door, and Oliver quickly stood up, shoved the lid back on the box, and put the box back where he'd got it, before running out to the living room. He pulled the door open and let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't Miley. It was Christian.

"Is Miley here?" He asked.

"No, she went to the grocery store a little while ago." Oliver answered. Rather than leave, as Oliver had been hoping he would do, Christian stepped through the doorway and said,

"Good. You and I need to talk. Preferably without her around." Oliver swallowed every ounce of saliva in his mouth and nervously asked,

"About what?"

"I think you know." Christian replied.

"I don't." Oliver said honestly. Christian made himself at home and opened Miley's empty refrigerator. When he saw nothing, he closed the door and turned to face Oliver.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but Miley has a boyfriend. She says you're just her roommate, but if I find out that you're more than that..." He couldn't seem to find a substantial threat to make, and his voice trailed off.

"We're not. We've been best friends for years, that's it." Oliver assured him. Christian rolled his eyes and helped himself to a glass of water, as that seemed to be all that was available to digest in the apartment at the moment.

"Sure you have." Christian said cynically. Oliver sighed, deciding it wasn't worth it to convince him. "Just remember this. If I find out you screwed my girlfriend, you'll wake up with a screw in your _head._" Christian threatened.

"Would I really wake up after that?" Oliver said one of his thoughts aloud, and regretted it right away.

"Either way. Try anything with my girl, and you die." He cracked his glass on the edge of the counter and it shattered, pieces flying all over the floor. "Same goes for if you mention this conversation to her." With that, Christian left, leaving the door open behind him and a mess for Oliver to clean up.

Just as Oliver was dumping the shards of the broken glass into the garbage can, Miley came home. She dropped her purse on the floor by the door and set the five bags she was carrying on the kitchen counter. Then she said the first words she'd said to Oliver in over a week.

"Can you bring up the rest of the bags?" Oliver was shocked that she'd asked, instead of ordered, considering how she felt about him at the moment.

"Yeah, I guess so." He replied, figuring that was his only choice. Miley tossed him her car keys, and he went all the way down to the parking lot, unlocked Miley's car, and grabbed the six remaining bags, before locking the car and heading for the elevator. It was difficult to carry the bags, seeing as the set of three hanging from each of Oliver's arms were very large, heavy bags. He set a few of them down as he rode the elevator all the way back up.

By the time Oliver made it back up to the apartment, Miley had unloaded nearly all of the grocery bags that she had brought up herself. Oliver helped her put away the rest of the groceries, without a word. Neither of them said anything until Miley's phone rang, and she answered it. Oliver went to his 'bedroom' and decided to organize some of his things. He took everything out of the dresser drawers and put them back inside, folded. By the time he finished, it was growing dark outside. Miley was sitting on a bar stool at the island in her kitchen, with a bowl of soup and a spoon in front of her. She stared into the soup and didn't look up once when Oliver came out of his room.

They both went to bed at the same time that night, and neither of them said one word, as they stood next to each other in the bathroom, Oliver brushing his teeth as Miley washed her face. Neither of them said goodnight, when Miley went to her bedroom and Oliver to his couch.

The next day, Miley and Oliver did as they'd been doing every day, lately, and found things to do in separate rooms. Oliver played Solitaire on Miley's laptop in his room, while Miley cleaned the stove in the kitchen. Oliver made himself lunch while Miley did laundry downstairs. After several hours of activities they usually didn't participate in, Miley went to her room, and Oliver went back out to the living room to watch TV.

After nearly an hour in her room, Miley came out and went to the bathroom. She spent an eternity in there, and came out just as the sky started darkening. She left the apartment looking like she was going to a party at the Playboy mansion, and again didn't say a word, let alone tell Oliver where she was going.

Even though they now had a large supply of food, Oliver made sure not to pig out, seeing as Miley's trips to the grocery store had suddenly become few and far between. He made himself a sandwich for dinner, and watched movies on the Hallmark channel all night, until he grew tired.

It was going on eleven when Oliver decided to go to bed. Miley still wasn't home, but when and if she came home, he'd probably already be fast asleep, so he didn't think he needed to worry about her waking him up.

He brushed his teeth, changed into his pajamas, and was on the couch with the lights out by quarter after eleven.

The moon was shining right through the glass doors that went out to Miley's balcony. It was a full moon tonight; something Oliver didn't really enjoy, seeing as the couch wasn't too far from those doors. He sat up after trying for at least half an hour to get to sleep, and set his pillow on the other end, deciding that maybe if he wasn't facing the moon, it would be easier to fall asleep. That seemed to work, and Oliver was just about asleep when the door flew open and Miley arrived home. She didn't turn the lights on, but she might as well have, with all the noise she was making. She missed the counter when she tried to set her purse on it, and it fell to the ground, with everything spilling out of it. She didn't bother cleaning it up, and tried to go to her room, tripping over the end of the couch on her way. She stopped in her tracks when she regained her balance, and sat down in her favorite recliner, sobbing.

"Miley. Are you okay? Oliver asked, sitting up again. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he could make out her face. She was trying to cover it with her hands, as she cried into them.

"No." She said between sobs.

"What's wrong? What happened?" She looked up at him and rubbed her eyes.

"He...he tried to...he tried to..." She mumbled. Her voice sounded slightly off, convincing Oliver than Miley had had something to drink tonight.

"He tried to what? What did he try to do? Are you talking about Christian?"

"_Yes. _He wanted to...have sex with me." She finally answered.

"What guy wouldn't?" Oliver said before he could stop himself. Miley didn't seem to care, or notice. "Miley...did he hurt you?" Oliver asked, suddenly concerned.

"No, but he tried to!" She cried, burying her face in her hands again.

"Miles...come here." Oliver said, calling her by the name he hadn't used in quite a while. She willingly stood up and carefully maneuvered herself over to the couch, and sat down next to her. She buried her face in the crook of Oliver neck and continued crying, while he simply wrapped his arms around her.

Oliver would've much rather been at Christian's house, putting a screw through his skull, but he restrained himself and didn't let Miley see his anger.

"I think..." She mumbled, after a long period of silence, "I think I'm gon' be sick." She stood up and ran to the bathroom, miraculously tripping over nothing on her way there. Oliver followed her into the bathroom and pulled open the drawer she kept her hair accessories in. He searched through it, and when he finally found it, he grabbed a hair tie and pulled her hair back for her, while she vomited into the toilet.

"Thanks." Miley said quietly, resting her arms on the toilet seat. Oliver sat down next to her, just as she puked once more. "You don't have to-" She was cut off, as she lurched forward and vomited once more. When she was done, she finished her sentence. "You don't have to stay. I'll be okay."

"No, it's alright. It's not like I could sleep through this anyway. You puke very loudly."

"Thanks..." Miley mumbled, before she vomited one last time. They stayed on the floor by the toilet for a while, waiting, just in case. When it seemed like she was done and her stomach was empty, Oliver helped Miley into her bedroom, and into her bed. Just as he went to turn around, she grabbed a hold of his wrist.

"Stay." She said.

"Miley-"

"At least until I fall asleep. Please, Oliver." She begged him, pulling on his arm. He reluctantly gave in and lay down on the bed next to her. He wasn't sure how long he could trust himself in her bed, but he pulled the covers up and closed his eyes, listening to her breathe. By the time Miley had fallen asleep, so had Oliver.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Arg. Sorry. I meant to start this so much sooner, but whenever I have time to do it, I don't feel at all up to it. So I apologize for how long this chapter took, as compared to the others.**_

So read. And like it. And also tell me what you think. **=P**

* * *

The sun shone through the window into Oliver's face, and he blinked. The blinding sunlight burned, and he squeezed his eyes shut harder. He blinked a couple more times, letting his still-sleeping eyes adjust to the lighting change. Slightly disoriented, he reached up to rub his left eye, and poked his forehead instead.

A loud snore shattered the silence and alerted Oliver to where he was, followed by the sound of the front door opening.

"Miley!" A voice called. "Miley?" The voice resonated through the apartment several more times before Oliver's sleepy brain put two and two together and realized that it was Christian's voice.

"Miley I'm sorry! Miley, baby, are you in there?" He yelled from outside the closed bedroom door.

At the sound of her name being called for what had to be the five hundredth time, Miley gained consciousness and turned on her side, with the door to her back. Oliver was just about to sit up and wake her, when the door opened and Christian's loud, authoritative voice bellowed,

"What is this?" Miley shot straight up, fully conscious, all of a sudden.

"Christian!" She squeaked, sounding extremely guilty of something.

"What is- What are- What are you doing?" He roared. The stuttering and brokenhearted look on Christian's face made Oliver feel sorry for him. But only for a moment.

"I was sleeping! I'm not doing anything!"

"Sleeping, my ass! You're doing _him!"_ The volume of Christian's voice seemed to be stuck at unbearably loud.

"I _am not! _Why are you so paranoid?"

"I have every reason to be paranoid! I come over unannounced and find him naked in your bed! What else have you been doing when I'm not around?" He almost looked like he was going to cry.

"Hey, I'm not-" Oliver started to object, until he looked down and saw that his chest was bare. "What happened to my shirt?" He looked up to see that Miley was wearing it. She gave him an apologetic look and said,

"Christian, if you're not going to believe me, I want you to get out. Nothing happened between us. I was sick, and he stayed in here with me, that's all. And I'm only wearing his shirt because I was too nauseous to get out of bed and change into my own clothes."

"But how'd you get me out of my-"

"You're a _really _heavy sleeper, Oliver." Miley answered his question before he had a chance to finish asking it. She climbed out of the bed as Christian asked his next question.

"Oh yeah? And why are you so sick, do you think?"

"What are you implying?" Miley asked, tugging at the hem of Oliver's shirt. Oliver stared from one of them to the other, wishing he was anywhere but here. He felt like lying back down and pulling the covers over his head.

"Well maybe you're carrying his demon spawn or something!" If Oliver'd been drinking water, this would be where he'd spit it out, in shock. The expression on Miley's face suggested that she was thinking something similar to what he was.

"We are _not _sleeping together! If I won't sleep with my own boyfriend, do you really think I'd try it with my roommate? Oliver's my best friend, that's _it." _Oliver felt slightly disappointed at the last part, but tried to keep that off his face.

"Stop lying to me Miley, it's not working." Christian softened his voice, but hardened his gaze.

"I'm not lying! I can see why you would think what you're thinking, but I swear I'm not lying. You need to believe me!" She stamped her foot like a four-year-old throwing a temper tantrum

"I'm not going to believe you, you lying bitch!" Christian screamed. Miley flinched as his spit flew into her face. She barely had time to back out of the way as Oliver launched himself off of the bed and tackled Christian.

"OLIVER!" Miley screamed, trying to get him to stop. Oliver ignored her and slammed his fist into Christian's jaw. He pulled his arm back again, ready to punch again, and Miley grabbed a hold of his elbow, trying to stop him. He was way too strong for her to have any influence over, so she resorted to yelling again.

"Oliver, stop it! Please! Stop! Don't hurt him!" While Miley yelled, Christian struggled, trying to get out from under his (ex)girlfriend's roommate. He got a fist in his face four more times before he finally freed his upper body, and threw Oliver off of him.

Miley kept screaming, but this time it was at Christian, who chased Oliver across the room, his face bright red.

"Christian! Stop it! Just get out!" She yelled, but as usual, Miley's words did nothing, for Christian pulled his arm back, ready to bash Oliver's skull in. Miley glanced around the room, picked up a lamp, and slammed it down on Christian's head, just as he punched Oliver right in the eye. The ceramic lamp shattered into peaces, and Christian stumbled backwards.

"GET OUT!" She screamed at him, before taking his arm and yanking him towards the doorway. Oliver helped her, clamping the hand that wasn't applying pressure to his eye around Christian's other arm. Together they steered Christian out of the apartment, and into the elevator. Oliver shoved him on the ground, while Miley pressed the button that would take the elevator to the ground floor.

Once she was back in the apartment, Miley collapsed on the couch, crying. She buried her face in a pillow and sobbed for a moment, while Oliver dug through the freezer for an ice pack to hold to his eye.

When he turned around, Oliver saw Miley rush into the bathroom, with her hand over her mouth. He set the ice pack down on the counter and followed her, standing in the doorway. This time, she didn't puke, but she remained on the floor in front of the toilet anyway. Her face was violently red, from both the crying and the embarrassment.

"Miley...are you okay?" Oliver asked, quietly. He wanted to go back and get the ice pack, but staying with Miley seemed more important.

"Yeah, I...I'm fine." She wiped her eyes and moved so that the pressure was off her knees, and she was sitting with her back to the wall across from the door. Her breathing slowed slightly, and she said,

"Oliver, I'm _so _sorry-"

"You don't have to say it. I know you are." He stepped inside the bathroom, and sat down next to her.

"If I'd know he was like this...I never would've..." She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "I didn't know he was like that until last night. It's never been that bad before."

"Who would've thought a guy named Christian could be so...violent."

"I know, right?" Miley laughed. She rested her head on Oliver's shoulder and said,

"I'm sorry."

"You already apologized, Miley."

"Yeah but before I was apologizing for what Christian did to you. Now I'm apologizing for the fact that you even had to witness that whole thing." They were silent for a moment listening to the birds chirping in the top branches of the gigantic tree just below the window. They seemed so care-free. All they had to worry about was where to get their next worm.

Oliver slid his arm behind Miley's back and pulled her closer to him.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"A little better. I don't know why I'm so sick. I didn't drink that much last night." She confessed, fiddling with an unraveling thread from the bath mat below her.

"Yeah, well..." Oliver left his thoughts unsaid, as he was almost positive Miley was thinking the same thing. Neither of them could put it past Christian anymore to think twice about slipping something into a girl's drink, whether it be Miley's or someone else's.

"You wanna go lay down?" Oliver asked, pushing himself up off the ground and extending a hand to help Miley up. Her hands remained in her lap, and she looked down at them, a blank expression on her face

"No, I'm fine." She told him. Oliver didn't know what else to suggest, so, biting his lower lip, he stared at the ground.

"You're gonna have a black eye. I'll get you an ice pack." Miley suddenly said, standing up.

"I already got one out." He said, as he followed her into the kitchen. She grabbed the blue ice pack off of the counter top and turned around to face Oliver, who was now standing right behind her. She cringed, prompting Oliver to ask,

"What? Does it really look that bad?" She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, and held it there with her teeth, before answering,

"Yeah. It does. It's swelling pretty bad."

"How bad do you think his face looks?" Oliver asked, flinching as she pressed the ice pack against his swollen eye.

"I don't think he really has a face anymore." She said, smiling. Oliver laughed quietly, and was silent. He listened to the sound of Miley's breathe, which he could feel against his neck, being as she was so close to him. "You could get arrested, you know. He didn't do anything to you. If he goes to the police..."

"He deserved it, after what he said to you. He had no right to treat you like that." Oliver insisted, taking the ice pack from her and holding it to his eye himself.

"What he said wasn't nice, but..." Miley mumbled, stepping backwards so that she could lean against the counter.

"But what? Miley he called you a lying bitch."

"I know, Oliver. But try to see it his way. He comes to apologize and finds you in my bed. What would you think if it had been you?" She brushed a strand of her greasy hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, making sure not to look him in the eye.

"I would've thought the same thing, but I wouldn't have handled it that way." Oliver stated, setting the ice pack down on the counter.

"How can you be so sure? Have you ever actually experienced that?"

"Have _you?_" He countered, raising an eyebrow.

"I just know that you can't always be sure about how you're going to react to things like that."

"Are you taking his side?" Oliver asked, loudly. His brows formed an upside down V shape, as he stared at her, confused.

"There are no sides, Oliver. There's me, and there's him. "

"So you think you're a lying bitch too?" Oliver asked, beyond confusion now.

"No! Oliver, you don't get it." She stomped her foot, and slid the fingers on both of her hands through her hair, the way she usually did when she was aggravated.

"No, Miley, _you _don't get it. You don't have to stand up for him. He made his choice, and it was bad. If he wants to apologize, go ahead and accept it. But until that happens, -and it probably won't- you need to quit feeling sorry for yourself, and figure out that it's not all your fault, for once." Miley pressed her lips together, so hard that they were turning purple. She stared at him so intensely that it made Oliver feel uncomfortable.

Suddenly, she broke eye contact and picked up the abandoned ice pack. She flung it across the room, and it hit the wall with a loud crack. She looked at the ice pack, and then at Oliver, before storming out of the apartment, too angry to bother slamming the door.

Oliver stood in the kitchen for a while, waiting for her to come back. After five minutes, the door was still open and Miley was still gone, so Oliver quietly closed the door.

"Somebody has an anger management problem." He thought out loud, as he sat down on the couch and picked up the newspaper sitting on the coffee table. Nothing interesting was in the news, so he read the comics. They didn't turn out to be as funny as they usually did, so out of sheer boredom, he decided to read the Dear Annie Column.

While he was reading about a woman whose husband had a severe -and creepy- Taylor Swift obsession (which had ruined their sex life and destroyed the communication between the two of them) , the front door opened and closed. Oliver didn't set the newspaper down until the couch moved beside him. He folded and placed the paper on the table, and turned to face Miley.

"I'm sorry." She said, her voice almost a whisper.

"I know." She glared at him, and gently shoved him away, proving that she was no longer angry.

"You were right. It's not my fault and I don't need to stick up for him just because I'm blaming myself." Miley leaned against Oliver, and he reluctantly placed his arm around her, for the second time that day. She laid down, resting her head on his lap.

"I'm sorry I punched your boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend." She corrected him, and then added. "It's okay." She rolled onto her back and stared up at him. "Sorry I'm so gross right now. You probably don't want me touching you." Oliver wanted to tell her how extremely wrong she was, but he controlled himself and instead told her,

"It's alright. And I think you've apologized enough for one lifetime."

"So If I were to murder your little brother, I wouldn't owe you an apology?" She asked, smirking.

"No. _I'd_ owe _you_ a thank you."

"Very funny. When was the last time you saw him, anyway? You should get your family to come over here for dinner or something sometime. I haven't seen your mom in forever." Miley suggested, bending her knees and pulling her feet toward her.

"How about you invite them?"

"They're _your_ family."

"It was _your _idea." Miley was quiet for a moment, and then she changed the subject.

"Even though I don't approve of you punching my boyfriend...you did get him pretty good."

"You liked it?" Oliver kidded, bouncing his knee up and down so that Miley's head moved with it. She slapped his stomach to get him to stop, and then replied,

"Oh yes. I was very impressed."

_**Hmm. Not the best ending...but I was out of ideas. Annnnnnnnywayyyy. You should review. Because you liked it. I know you did. You were very impressed. **_**_XP_**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Oh gosh. This chapter is quite long, compared to the last one. I hope it's as good. If it's not, I now have all summer to make it up to you! School's finally out! (Which is why you're getting an update right after the last one) I still have work though. A whole lot of it. :(**_

Over the next few days, Oliver found himself watching Miley's every move. He paid attention to the way she reacted when he touched her, and the way she responded to the things he asked her. He wanted to make sure that the feelings he was now having a hard time hiding wouldn't be completely unwanted and un-returned. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the friendship they had going. He'd only just got her back, he didn't need to ruin it now.

While Miley spent the day with Lilly, doing who knows what, and he finally had time to breath, Oliver called every guy friend he could think of, until one of them finally answered.

"Hey Jimmy, are you doing anything today?"

"No, why?" Jimmy asked, yawning. He'd obviously just woken up.

"I've been spending a little too much time around girls. It's kind of scary. I've been walking around all morning wearing a pink bathrobe. And I don't think It's Miley's..." Oliver explained, while taking off the robe he'd found in his dresser earlier that morning. He rolled his eyes as he saw his name written on the tag in Miley's handwriting.

"Eww, man you need to get out of there." Jimmy told him. "I was just gonna go to the gym, and you're coming with me." Oliver decided not to object, since he was in major need of some guy activities. That and the fact that at the rate Miley was going, he'd probably be punching several more boyfriends in the near future and would need to gain some upper body strength in order to do that successfully. Unless, of course, he was the next boyfriend. If that were the case, he wouldn't have to worry about beating up any of Miley's boyfriends, because he'd be the only one she'd ever have. He'd still go the gym though, just in case.

The difficulty he was having, lifting weights, made Oliver wonder how on earth he'd been able to hold Christian down, let alone do any damage. Jimmy seemed to be thinking the same thing, as he stopped doing his squats and stood laughing at Oliver.

"Was the guy related to a stick figure? How the hell did you punch him that many times if you can't even lift twenty pound weights?"

"I...used the element of surprise." Oliver decided, as he set the weights back down on the rack and picked up some lighter ones.

"You need to spend some more time at the gym, Oken." Jimmy told him, having trouble talking due to the laughter Oliver's weakness was invoking.

"I don't really plan on spending any more time beating up my roommate's psycho jealous boyfriend." Oliver replied, struggling to talk and lift weights at the same time.

"Yeah, I bet the only thing you'll be beating is-" He stopped talking, his arm in the air, like he'd just been about to elbow Oliver in the side. "Never mind."

"What?" Oliver asked slowly, setting down his weights again.

"Oh, nothing."

"No, tell me." Oliver demanded, keeping a smile on his face so that he didn't seem mad.

"It was just one of those thoughts that you start to say out loud...and then you realize that there was a reason it was in your head to begin with."

"...Okay...I guess I don't wanna know."

"You don't. Trust me." Jimmy insisted, turning back to the weights he'd abandoned a while ago. Oliver rolled his eyes, and did the same thing. He had a pretty good idea what Jimmy had been about to say, but he wasn't going to admit it, in fear of the color his face would turn.

"You wanna go get something to drink?" Jimmy asked a while later, after they had made less-awkward small talk the whole time they lifted weights.

"Sounds like a good idea. I'm pretty sure if I sweat one more drop, I'll turn into dust." Oliver agreed, setting the heavier weights he'd finally worked his way up to down.

The two of them went to clean up in the bathroom, before leaving the gym to find the nearest restaurant serving drinks.

"Maybe if you go to the gym with me more often, you'll actually be able to see your abs. And then she might actually like you back."

"What? Who? Huh?" Oliver asked, panicking slightly.

"You know exactly who I'm talking about." Jimmy said, a satisfied smirk on his face, disappearing only as he tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and had to regain his balance.

"Miley?"

"Duh. She's all you've been talking about all day, dude."

"...She's the only person I ever see. What else would I have to talk about?"

"I don't know...how many times you crapped today." Jimmy suggested.

"That's disgusting."

"That's not the point." Jimmy told him, stopping to open the door of a McDonald's they'd just come upon.

"Then what is?" Oliver asked him, utterly confused. How on earth could Jimmy know so much? Oliver had only talked to him for more than ten minutes maybe three times since he'd moved into Miley's apartment.

"How many bathrooms does she have?" Jimmy asked, as he stood at the back of the line and stared over the heads of the people much shorter than him (Jimmy was 6' 6) at the menu. Oliver, being only 6 foot, couldn't see as easily, so he decided to wait, and diverted his gaze to Jimmy's face instead.

"Why does it matter?"

"Just answer the dang question." Jimmy demanded, impatiently.

"I guess now I know why we don't hang out very often..."

"Bathrooms, Oken, bathrooms. How many?" An old woman in line ahead of them turned around and gave Oliver a strange look.

"One. You happy?"

"And how many times have you walked in on her?" Jimmy asked. The all-knowing smirk on his face suggested that there was a point to these questions.

"I don't know...a couple times. Why does it matter?"

"How much did you like it?" Jimmy asked, trying to stop himself from laughing.

"You're an ass." Oliver told him, shoving Jimmy into the wall behind them as Oliver stepped forward to get a better look at the menu.

"You're in l_oooo_ve."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not." Oliver repeated, making sure not to look Jimmy in the eyes.

"_Are too." _ Jimmy said again, laughing.

"What's so bad about it?"

"Nothing. Until you fail to _satisfy _her and she kicks you out." Jimmy told him, barely able to speak clearly because of how badly he was cracking up laughing.

"You should really stop talking."

"You should-" Jimmy started to retort.

"No. Stop it."

...

"So what's the real reason you asked me to go shopping with you?" Lilly asked Miley as they walked through the mall, bags in their hands.

"What do you mean "the real reason?" Can't a girl spend some quality time with her best friend without there being a reason for it?" Miley replied, feigning hurt.

"A girl can...but you can't. I know you Miley. There's a reason." Lilly put on a huge smile, and added cheerfully, "And you're going to tell me what it is."

"The reason is that I have a problem making time for my friends while I have a boyfriend. And now that Christian and I are done, I'm going to do my best to divide my time between my family and all of my friends equally, the way I should have been doing it all along." Miley felt satisfied with her answer, and started walking more quickly toward the food court, so that Lilly had to jog to catch up to her.

"Aww, Miley, that's great! Admitting you have a problem is the first step toward getting help."

"...Lilly I'm not in AA. I'm just apologizing for not spending enough time with you." Miley told her friend, raising an eyebrow.

"I know." Lilly replied. They walked quietly through the food court until they found the place they'd decided earlier that they'd eat at. They stood in line for a couple of minutes, in complete silence, until Lilly asked, "So what's the _real _reason?"

"_Lilly!_ Give it a rest!" Lilly grinned, as they moved up a place in line.

"You'll tell me." She decided, nodding to herself.

"Whatever." Miley replied, turning her back to Lilly as she moved up a few steps.

"You will." Lilly assured her.

Miley could feel Lilly's eyes on her back as she ordered for the two of them, and even while she waited for the food, with her back to her friend, she could still tell that Lilly was staring. If she thought that staring would get anything out of Miley's mouth, she was sorely mistaken.

"_Fine." _Miley nearly shouted, fed up with the glaring Lilly'd been doing from her seat across the table from Miley for the past ten minutes. She hadn't even touched her chicken, and the wrapper was still on her straw.

"I knew that'd work!" Lilly exclaimed jubilantly.

"You might not want to act so excited..." Miley mumbled, staring down into her drink.

"Why? ...Miles what is it?" The happiness had been drained from Lilly's voice, and she now spoke with worry instead.

"I...Well...you know that rule about how best friends don't date each other's exes?"

"Yes..."

"Well...ever since Oliver-"

"_You're dating __Oliver?" _Lilly shouted, shocked. The people surrounding them turned and stared for a moment, until they realized that Miley and Lilly knew they were staring, and looked away. "Miley you only broke up with Christian like, a week ago!"

"No! I"m not dating Oliver. But..."

"You...want to?"

"I'm so sorry Lilly." Miley apologized, starting to cry. "I never thought I'd feel that way about him. I mean, he's been like a second, less annoying, slightly less disgusting brother to me forever. I don't know what happe-"

"It's okay, Miley..." Lilly interrupted.

"What?" Miley asked, wiping her eyes.

"I don't care. Oliver pretty much _is _my less annoying, less disgusting, slightly less disgusting second brother."

"But...what about..." Miley started to ask, completely confused.

"That's why we broke up. After a while, we realized we were too much like brother and sister. I tried to act like I thought of him differently...and he was trying to do the same thing, all along. Once we finally talked about it, we decided we were much better off being just friends. And that we actually _could _be friends, still." Lilly explained.

"So...the nastiness was an act?"

"Yeah, pretty much. The..._nastiness_...was fake. We were pretty convincing though, weren't we?" She put on a small smile and finally picked up a chicken strip.

"You were...you two made me want to puke every time I was around you."

"And I guess we know why, now." Lilly said, sticking her tongue out.

"So you're not...upset? At all?" Miley asked, still unsure. She was waiting for Lilly to start crying or yelling or something. Anything to suggest that what Miley was hearing wasn't true.

"No...do you want me to be? I can act like I am." Lilly joked, taking another bite of her chicken. Miley glared at her, and took the last sip of her drink. She leaned back in her chair and waited for Lilly to finish eating.

"You know...the thought that _you_ would ever be jealous of something that _I_ had...it kind of makes me feel good."

"I'm jealous of a lot of the things you have, Lilly." Miley tried to convince her.

"Not nearly as much as I'm jealous of you, I'm sure." Miley didn't respond to this one, and instead set her purse on her lap and started digging through it, for her phone. She replied to a text from her step mother while she waited, and mostly kept her eyes down.

"I have to pick something up for Lynne and bring it by the house on the way back." She mumbled, dropping her phone back in her purse.

"Okay." Lilly said with her mouth full. She swallowed, looked down, and then back up at Miley. "You can date him if you want to, Miley..."

"He doesn't like me back, Lilly. So you don't have to worry about it." Miley bitterly set her purse back on the floor next to her three shopping bags and clasped her hands together, setting them in her lap as she tried to distract herself from thinking about how Oliver didn't - couldn't possibly - feel the same way.

"I wasn't worrying about it. Why did you feel so bad anyway? If you're not actually going to do anything..." Lilly wondered out loud.

"I just felt bad for feeling that way, that's all."

"You don't have to feel bad for things you can't control." Lilly told her, finally finished with her food, and standing up. Miley picked up all of her bags and followed Lilly out of the food court.

"Thanks Lilly. For being such a great friend." Miley told her, as they exited the mall together.

"You've already thanked me by being the same thing."

...

Lynne Stewart looked up from her dusting as a car rolled into her driveway. It was a familiar car. Dark Silver. Miley's. She set the feather duster down on the table she'd been cleaning, and went to open the door for her step-daughter, who was carrying a large cardboard box.

"Thanks again for picking that up for me, Miley." Lynne said, smiling. She'd always called Miley by her name, and nothing else. Miley's dad, Jackson, Lilly and Oliver were always calling her Miles, or, in Robby Ray's case, "bud," but Lynne refused to call her anything other than Miley, and Miley kind of liked that.

"Yeah it was no problem. I was at that end of town anyway."

"Is something wrong?" Lynne asked, noting the tone of Miley's voice.

"What? No, I'm fine." Miley replied, setting the box down on the kitchen counter.

"You sure? No more boy troubles?"

"How do you know everything?" Miley asked, accidentally admitting that she _was _having trouble.

"I don't. You just have a "I'm having trouble with boys" look on your face." Lynne told her, placing her hands on her hips.

"You'll have to show me what that looks like some time..." Miley replied, trying to smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I'm fine. Umm..thanks for offering though. I should probably go, Lilly's waiting for me. "

"Okay. I'll see you later then." Lynne agreed, holding out an arm to hug her step-daughter. She wrapped both of her arms around Miley for a moment, and let go.

"Bye Lynne. I'll be back next time you make cookies." Miley grinned at her over her shoulder, as she left the house.

Lynne smiled back and slowly shook her head, wondering why Jackson couldn't have turned out the way Miley had.

...

"What's your favorite color?" Miley asked Oliver during a commercial break, lying across the couch with her head in his lap, while they watched TV together.

"I don't know. I've never been able to decide." Oliver answered. "Either green or blue. Maybe red...or orange...yellow's nice too." Miley laughed and grabbed Oliver's wrist. She rotated his watch so that the face of it was staring down at her. It was 6:51 PM. Soon the show Oliver was watching would be over, and it would be Miley's turn.

"Mine's pink."

"I kind of figured that." Oliver replied, pulling on the pink shirt she was wearing.

"What's your favorite food?"

"How can you even ask that one?" Oliver asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I don't have a favorite either." Miley told him, smiling. She pressed the palm of her hand against the palm of Oliver's hand, which she was still holding. "You have humongous hands."

"You have humongous...teeth." Miley tossed Oliver's hand at his face, and, unprepared to have full control of all of his limbs, Oliver didn't stop it from hitting him.

"What? I could've said something else." He told her, looking back up at the TV to make sure his show wasn't back on.

"Oh, thanks. So now more than just my teeth are huge."

"That could be a good thing." Oliver mumbled. He glanced down at Miley's face, and back up at the TV, when he saw the expression on her face. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

"What's your biggest secret?" Miley asked, like Oliver hadn't just made a comment about the size of her breasts.

"Be quiet, my shows back on." He told her, without answering. Miley smiled and closed her eyes, thinking about how Oliver hadn't pushed her away when she'd rested her head on his lap, and about how he didn't seem to mind when she talked to him about random things, the way she'd been doing all through commercials. She didn't think her smile could possibly get any bigger.

"Why are you smiling?" He asked her, grinning back down at her.

"I'm not." Miley denied, drawing her mouth into a straight line again. She wanted to smile again, as she looked up at the TV screen. The fact that he'd noticed her smile meant that he'd been looking at her.

When the show came to an end, Miley asked her question again.

"I can't tell you." Was his much anticipated answer.

"Why not?" Miley scoffed.

"Because."

"You can't trust me?" She asked him, frowning.

"...No." He answered. Miley held her breath for a moment, and then asked, quietly,

"Why not?"

"What's _your _biggest secret?" He asked, trying to shift the focus from him to her.

"You can't do that! You already know mine anyway."

"What, that you don't use toothpaste when you brush your teeth at night?" He joked, lifting his legs off of the couch they were sticking to. The strong, warm breeze coming through the window caused the papers on Miley's coffee table to move to the other end of it.

"You should probably close the window. It's gonna storm." Miley commented. Her voice was quiet now. She was growing tired.

"Me? Why don't you do it."

"You get to do it because I told you to." She explained.

Oliver remained seated.

They sat in the same position on the couch for several more minutes. Oliver's show had ended and another one had started after it, but Miley was too tired to force him to give her the remote. Oliver glanced down at Miley's face after the second episode ended, and noticed that she was sleeping. He turned the volume down on the TV, and watched her for a moment.

"My biggest secret...is that I'm in love with you." He admitted to her sleeping face, before he stood up, gently placing a pillow under her head, where his lap had been, and closed the window.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Sorry it's been a while...I felt motivated to work on a story that nobody ended up liking anymore..so I wasted a huge chunk of my time working on that when I could've been working on this. Plus I was on vacation all week, which didn't really turn out that great. I probably won't leave again or feel like working on my other story much anymore, so you're safe. I will finish this one. Eventually.**_

Miley woke up the next morning and stepped on Oliver while she was still half asleep. She let out a shriek, surprised to find him under her feet, on the floor. He seemed to find it strange that her feet were on top of him, but didn't look all too confused by their sleeping arrangements, the way Miley was.

"Oliver, why are you on the floor?" She asked, sitting back down on the couch she'd spent the night on. She arched her back, trying to relieve it of it's soreness, as she waited for Oliver's answer.

"You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you up." He mumbled sleepily as he slowly found his way back onto his feet.

"You could've woke me up Oliver. Or at least slept in my bed or something. I know for a fact that the floor isn't comfortable." Oliver resisted telling her that he didn't want to sleep in her bed unless she was in it with him, and instead made his way into the kitchen and to the refrigerator without answering.

"I really need to get a new couch." Miley mumbled, following Oliver into the room as she rubbed her lower back and yawned. "And another bed for the guest room, so you don't have to sleep on it." She added.

"The couch is fine." Oliver mumbled through the bagel he'd stuffed into his mouth while he stuck his head back into the refrigerator for more food.

"No, I slept on it for one night and _already _feel like I need to see a chiropractor." She paused for a moment, bit her lip and released it. "Or you could just give me a back rub." She suggested.

Oliver was greatly relieved that she couldn't see the look on his face. Instead of shouting "Okay!" Like he wanted to, he stuffed an unknown food from a Tupperware bowl into his mouth and tried to reply more like he normally would.

"Can I eat first?" His voice sounded slightly squeaky, ruining the whole "act normal" strategy, Oliver assumed. Miley didn't seem to notice, and simply replied,

"Okay. Just remember that unfortunately I'm human and am required to eat, so you can't clean out my fridge yet."

"You could always go to that McDonald's down the street." Oliver suggested.

"I could always just kick you out of my fridge." She countered, squeezing into the space next to him so that she could remove her breakfast from the refrigerator before Oliver ate it.

Oliver held his breath for a moment and backed out of his spot, to give Miley some room. She didn't seem to notice how strange it was for him to do that, and took out the milk without saying a word. Oliver remained in the same spot, leaning against the island even after Miley left the refrigerator to get some cereal.

"Do you want to go with me to pick out a mattress?" Miley finally asked, shoving a spoonful of her Frosted Flakes into her mouth.

"How could I miss out on something so exciting?" Oliver replied sarcastically. Miley took another three bites before asking,

"So that's a no?"

"No. That's a yes..."

"You could've made your answer a little clearer." Miley defended herself from the tone of Oliver's voice.

"It's not my fault you didn't understand it." He told her, taking another bagel out of the refrigerator and setting it on top of the container of cream cheese he'd taken out first.

"...Yes it is."

"No it's not."

"You said it sarcastically. To me, that means you're not serious. How was I supposed to know you actually meant what you said?" Miley asked him.

"You just were." He kidded, digging a butter knife out of the silverware drawer to spread the cream cheese over his bagel.

"Forgive me for not being able to read your mind, Oliver." Miley said, stirring her soggy Frosted Flakes with her spoon.

"You're forgiven."

"Thank you." Miley took one last bite of her Frosted Flakes and dropped the spoon in the bowl. She took a drink from her glass of milk and rested her elbows on the counter top.

"You have a milk mustache." Oliver pointed out. Miley glared at him but said nothing, and instead stood up and dumped her half eaten bowl of cereal into the sink, before entering her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

"It's just a milk mustache!" Oliver called after her. "I'm sorry!" He added. He of course got no response, which really wasn't that unusual anymore when it came to Miley.

He ignored her moodiness and finished his bagel, got dressed, and waited in the living room for Miley to come back out. He knew she would eventually, and he was right. Miley slipped quietly through her bedroom doorway only two minutes after Oliver sat down on the couch to wait for her.

"You still want that back rub?" He asked her. She spun around to face him; Oliver had obviously shocked her.

"That would be great, actually." She said with a slight smile. She sat down on the floor in front of the couch, and Oliver slipped down off of it to sit behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and didn't move, for a moment, afraid that she would change her mind and decide that she didn't want him touching her. She didn't say anything, so he squeezed her shoulders a little bit, and started rubbing in circles, gradually moving down her back as he went.

"That feels really good." She moaned, once he reached the small of her back. Oliver swallowed hard and continued nervously rubbing her back without saying a word.

They both sat in silence for several more minutes, neither of them knowing that the other was enjoying this. Miley stayed quiet, hoping that by saying nothing, she could keep this going for a little while more. Oliver didn't say a word, concentrating too much on how great it felt to touch her, and the prayer that she wouldn't stop him. He stared at her warm back as his hands moved in small circles all over it, and he wished that he could just wrap his arms around her instead and feel her warmth on more than just his fingertips.

Miley's back had stopped hurting nearly fifteen minutes before she admitted that to Oliver. She didn't want it to stop but she knew that she couldn't keep it going forever without him noticing how awkward it was getting.

"That's much better. Thank you." She mumbled, starting to stand up. His fingers rested on her shoulders until her standing forced them off, and Miley definitely noticed it. She erased the smile on her face before she turned to face him.

"We should probably get going..." She mumbled, backing away to get her car keys without looking away from him.

"Can we get ice cream on the way there?" Oliver asked excitedly, finally sounding like himself again.

"You just ate." Miley responded, giving him neither a yes or a no.

"So. That back rub required a lot of energy. I'm hungry again." He told her, slipping his shoes on while she held the door open, waiting for him for once.

"We'll see."

"'We'll see?' That always means no."

"No it doesn't!" Miley argued, pressing the call button on the elevator.

"Every time you say it you mean no."

"I do not!" Miley denied, even though she knew he was probably right.

Oliver started listing off examples to prove her wrong, and only got through three of them before she gave in.

"_Fine._ We'll get ice cream." She told him, as the door opened and they both stepped into the elevator

"_Yes! _I knew that'd work." Oliver exclaimed, before hurriedly pushing the first floor button on the elevator, before Miley could get to it.

"You are such a child." Miley said, unable to stop herself from smiling.

"Then it's a good thing you love kids." He told her, grinning. Miley didn't remember every talking to Oliver about children, but he was right.

By the time they reached the mattress store, Oliver had claimed that he was "starving" at least ten times.

"You think you're starving? Go to a third world country. You don't even _know _starving." Miley told him, growing tired of his complaining.

"Fine. I'm slightly hungry."

"That's better." Miley nodded approvingly, pulling into a parking spot and throwing her door open before she even shut off the engine. She shoved the keys into her purse and started walking toward the front door before Oliver was even out of the car. He hurried down the short sidewalk to catch up with her, and cut in front of her to go through the door first. Miley shoved him toward the wall and went through the second doorway before he had a chance to.

"Hey!" Oliver said, rubbing his arm like she'd really shoved him that hard. "That hurt." Miley stuck out her tongue at him and walked quickly down the hallway, her heels clicking on the ceramic tiles on the floor.

"Whoa." Oliver mumbled, slowing down behind Miley.

"What?" She asked, turning around.

"You seriously have too much money Miley. You buy mattresses at places like this? I could sell everybody at my family reunion and still not be able to afford one of these mattresses." Miley said nothing and watched Oliver as he checked the price on the mattress next to him. "I could sell everybody at my family reunion _twice _and not be able to afford this."

"They're not _that _expensive, Oliver. I'm sure the people at your family reunions are worth thirty of these."

"Actually only six people ever show up. And three are in prison, so they're not worth much." He explained.

"Oh." Miley said, "Well maybe these mattresses _are _worth that much."

"See." Oliver said, playfully shoving Miley with his shoulder, "I do know what I'm talking about."

"This is a rare occasion." Miley corrected him, smiling. Oliver squinted disapprovingly at her. "Try this one, it looks nice." Oliver hopped onto the mattress whose price tag he'd just checked, and abruptly jumped off.

"Too stiff" He explained.

They moved through the store, with Oliver testing every mattress and giving Miley his opinion on each and every one of them.

"We've gone through almost the entire store Oliver, at least _one _of them has to be good enough."

"If you don't approve of my constructive mattress criticism, maybe _you _should be the one testing them. It's your mattress anyway."

"Yeah but you'll be the one sleeping on it." She pointed out.

"Not for much longer though." Oliver must've noticed how Miley's face fell when he said that, because he quickly added, "Since when I get signed I'll be able to afford my rent." Miley wanted to tell him that he could stay forever, but she didn't say a word and instead moved on to the next mattress. She actually laid down on this one, and closed her eyes as Oliver joined her.

"I like this one." He said.

"Me too." She agreed, yawning. They laid together on the mattress for several minutes, until they were interrupted by a woman who worked at the store.

"Excuse me." She said in a rude tone of voice, "If you two plan on sleeping on this mattress you need to buy it first." Miley shot up and apologized to the woman, while Oliver looked around, paying no attention to what was going on in front of him.

"Well that was rude." Miley said, when the woman finally left them alone.

"What was?" Oliver asked, sitting back down on the mattress, looking around to make sure that the woman wasn't watching him.

"She said that she doesn't see why I need a mattress since my "lover" and I seem to be tiring ourselves out on top of one, considering we're falling asleep in a mattress store." Oliver didn't pay much attention to what Miley said after that, as he was too busy picturing it in his head. "She's obviously blind, and that's no way to treat a customer." Miley finally finished ranting about the woman.

"I say we complain to the manager and get her fired." Oliver suggested.

"I was thinking the same thing. After we buy this mattress, of course." Miley responded, smiling at him.

...

"Wow. This actually looks like a bedroom now." Miley commented, as Oliver struggled making the bed by himself.

"It would look more like a bedroom if you helped me put these stupid sheets on." Oliver grumbled.

"But it looks so much better when you do it!" Miley excused herself from bed-making duty with a smile. Oliver tucked the sheet under the end of the mattress and yanked it, along with the blanket on top up without any help from Miley.

Oliver stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, enjoying having an actual bed to sleep on now.

"Hey let's go to the beach!" Miley suggested, leaving the room.

"_No._" Oliver complained loudly. "You made me carry the mattress all the way up here by myself. I'm tired."

"You can sleep on the beach. I need a tan."

"Go lay on the roof." Oliver suggested halfheartedly.

"No. We're going to the beach." Miley insisted, slamming her bedroom door behind her. Oliver knew he wouldn't win this one, so he got off of the bed and tiredly dug through his clothes, looking for his swimming trunks before laying back down on the bed while Miley got ready. He'd almost fallen asleep when she burst back into his room with twice as much energy as he could even hope for.

"Let's go!" She exclaimed, yanking him off of the bed. Oliver followed her out to the elevator, almost sleepwalking, and all the way out to her car. They drove for almost ten minutes before Miley slowed down and parked her car in the parking lot of a bank that had recently gone out of business. She led the way down the sidewalk for a block and a half before they reached the beach. She dropped the two towels and her purse on the sand and stood there for a moment, until Oliver caught up.

"I really miss living close to the beach."

"I miss when you lived close to the beach too. Back then you didn't force me to go everywhere with you." Oliver told her, pulling his shirt off and spreading his towel out on the ground and lying down on it.

"I _do not _force you to go everywhere with me." She denied. Oliver gave her a look that changed her mind. "Okay maybe I do. It's just...Lilly's busy with school so we don't spend a lot of time together anymore. And without Hannah I have a lot of free time on my hands and you're the only person I can spend it with." Oliver didn't respond to this, as once Miley had stopped talking, she'd decided that that was the time to strip out of her clothes. She yanked her black tank top over her head and slipped out of her short white skirt right in front of him. Oliver seemed to be stuck with his mouth open, watching her in awe.

Being that he was sharing an appartment - and a lockless bathroom- with Miley, Oliver had been accidentally granted access to the view of what was underneath that little white bikini a couple of times, but even the memory of that couldn't stop him from watching her. She didn't have a clue that he was looking, since by now she'd laid down on her towel next to him and had her eyes closed.

Strangely enough, Oliver wasn't the one to fall asleep on his beach towel. While he was watching her, Miley had dozed off, and was now snoring. Oliver couldn't help but smile when he thought about the strange tan lines she'd have when she woke up, since she'd fallen asleep with her left hand placed on top of her belly button, and her right hand - with her fist clenched lightly - resting on her collarbone. Her hair was covering her left shoulder, and she had her right knee crossed over the left. Oliver thought about waking her, or at least moving her so that she wasn't in such a weird position, but he decided that it would be funnier not to.

Fortunately for Miley's tan line, a young boy accidentally kicked a beach ball right at her face. It smacked her in the nose, instantly waking her up. She sat up straight and looked around to see what had woke her up.

Oliver tossed the ball back to the kid, laughing at her.

"What's so funny?" She asked, glaring at him.

"Oh, nothing." He answered.

"You paid him to do that, didn't you?" Miley asked him, pulling her purse into her lap.

"No, but I wish I could claim responsibility for that." Oliver told her, still laughing. Miley pulled out her cell phone, checked the time, responded to three texts - all from Lilly, badgering her about the time she was spending with Oliver - and grabbed her sunglasses. She didn't put them on, but her fingers remained wrapped around them when she laid back down.

"It's really hot." Oliver complained.

"The water's not."

"How do you know?" Oliver kidded, standing up.

"I'm psychic." She answered with a smile.

"Do you want to come with me?" He asked her, taking a step toward the shoreline.

"No, I'll stay here." She told him. She watched him walk away, and rubbed at her eyes.

This is pathetic, she thought, tightly wrapping her arms around her knees. Why couldn't he see how much she liked him? She'd been obvious about it, hadn't she? Maybe he could see it, and didn't return her feelings. Maybe he was being a good friend by pretending he didn't notice, so that it didn't ruin their friendship.

Or maybe not, Miley thought. Since when was Oliver smart enough to think to do that? Then again, Miley wasn't all that smart either. _Maybe _she only thought she felt this way because of how close they'd been living for the last several months.

Maybe she should just forget about it. Or kick him out. Maybe she could bribe a record company into giving Oliver a record deal and get him to move out, so that all of this could stop.

Miley felt the tears coming when she realized what she'd just thought. What kind of friend was she, thinking that? Oliver had plenty of talent. He could get a record deal without her help. He could do anything without her help. He didn't need her at all. He just needed a room in her apartment. It was what she had that he needed, not Miley herself.

This was why she'd had to end her career. Nobody wanted Hannah, they just wanted what Hannah had. Her talent, her money, just possessions.

Miley burst into tears when she realized what she was thinking. She wasn't supposed to be thinking this way anymore. She'd started taking those pills again after Oliver had confronted her about them. They were supposed to help. They were supposed to make her feel good about herself, not bad. What if the pills couldn't fix her? Could she be that messed up?

There she was, thinking like that again.

Happy things, Miley told herself. Think happy things. Think about...Oliver. Oliver does like you. He does. He just isn't ready to show it yet. Maybe that's it.

Now that she'd started crying, Miley was finding it difficult to stop. She wiped her eyes and took deep breath after deep breath, but it didn't seem to stop. She leaned over and buried her face in Oliver's towel, but all she could smell was him, and that didn't help her depressive thoughts any.

Miley put her sunglasses on when she noticed Oliver coming back. He was soaking wet. His skin shined in the sun, and his hair was all messed up from the waves. He was smiling too, like he was having the good time Miley wasn't.

"You've got enough sun Miley, come swimming with me. It's fun." He insisted, reaching for her hand. She pulled it out of his grip, not noticing the saddened expression on his face when she did so.

"I don't want to." She told him, laying back down, hoping that her sunglasses were dark enough to keep him from seeing her tears.

_**I'm relatively sure that this will probably be the unhappiest ending to a chapter in this story, but I haven't completely planned everything out yet, so you never know. I do know, however, that it will get happier soon. **_

_**You know what'll make me happier? Reviews. **_**=D**


	10. Chapter 10

**_Hi! I don't think I've ever got this far in a story and still wanted to write it...Usually I get to like, chapter eight, and then I really want it to just be finished. So the fact that I still feel motivated to write this says something...I think._**

**_I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this chapter so soon after posting the last one, but it's entertaining, so why not? _**

Miley and Oliver's next trip to the beach, a week later, was a much happier one than the previous. Ever since then, Miley'd been having nothing but good days, which to Oliver were almost equivalent to a small child following him around, poking him in the back, telling him to just do it already. For whatever reason though, Oliver couldn't tell her how he felt, and so he suffered, without a clue that she was doing the same thing.

Usually when Miley liked a guy, she made it very obvious, or just told him to his face, but with Oliver it was different. She had to be cautious. Oliver was one of her best friends - without Lilly around as much as usual, he probably _was _her best friend**_ - _**and she couldn't risk ruining that. As much as she loved him, Miley valued his friendship even more.

"Oh my God." Oliver mumbled through the soft pretzel he'd stuffed into his mouth. "This is _so_ good." Miley propped herself up on her elbows and laughed, although a normal person would probably feel like puking. Watching Oliver eat was the most disgusting thing that Miley knew of.

"Give me some." She demanded, holding out her hand, grinning.

"No."

"Yes. Just a little piece." Oliver couldn't resist the look on her face, so he ripped off a little piece and dropped it in her hand.

"This is practically microscopic, Oliver. I wanted a piece, not a molecule."

"_Fine." _He gave in and gave her a larger piece of his pretzel.

"Thanks." She said, sitting up. "You know what?"

"What?" Oliver asked, sticking another piece of his pretzel into his mouth.

"I'm tempted to move into that kid's sand castle and live here for the rest of my life I forgot how much I loved the beach." She nodded toward a humongous sand castle that a little boy down by the water was building.

"But you're not going to." Oliver told her. "Because then I'd have to live in a dumpster, and at high tide that castle's gonna be gone anyway."

"That's true." She said quietly. Her demeanor changed when she stood up and excitedly exclaimed, "Let's go swimming!" She dropped her towel and held out a hand that he didn't take.

"You're not supposed to swim right after eating." Oliver pointed out. Miley gave him a look that reminded him of his mother.

"Since when do you actually obey that rule?" She asked.

"Since now."

"Get up. We're going swimming." She ordered, leaning over to grab his hand, before yanking him to his feet.

"You sure are demanding today." Oliver muttered, stuffing the rest of his pretzel in his mouth.

"You like it." She kidded. He _did _like it, but he wasn't about to say that, so he stayed silent instead and followed her into the water, until it covered his ankles.

It was cold today, but Miley, strangely enough, didn't seem to care at all. She marched into the water and was up to her chest in water before she turned around to see Oliver standing by the shore, ankle deep in the ocean. She made her way back up to the shore and said,

"You're not gonna cramp up and get eaten by a shark, Oliver."

"How do _you_ know?" He asked, squinting in the sunlight that was bouncing off of the surface of the water and into his eyes.

"I just do. I'm psychic, remember?"

"No I don't remember. I don't believe you." He told her. Miley grabbed his hand again and pulled him further into the water with her.

"If I die it's your fault." He blamed her, closing his eyes as a wave smacked him in the face.

"You're not gonna die." She told him, before ducking under the water, coming back up, and flinging the hair in her face back over her head.

"And if I get viciously mauled by a shark?" Oliver questioned, watching the sun sparkle on her long wet hair.

"I'll send flowers to your funeral." She decided, moving further and further from the shore, until she could barely reach the bottom.

"Oh thanks, you'll send flowers but not actually go to it?"

"Nope. I don't wanna catch Melodramatic. I hear you can get that from the dead." She joked with a smile.

"You don't even know what that word _means_." Oliver told her, hugging himself to keep out the cold, while he stood on his tiptoes to keep his head above water.

"I do too." She retaliated. "You don't."

"Yes I do." He countered, without explaining.

"What's it mean then?" She asked. Oliver couldn't see them through the water, but he was pretty sure she had her hands on her hips now.

"It mean's..." He suddenly let out a loud shriek and disappeared under the water.

"Oliver?" He popped back up with a terrified look on his face. He yelped as he went under again, and then came back up, flailing his arms and splashing water into Miley's face before going back down.

"Oliver!" Miley yelled again. Now she was getting worried. "Oliver!" He popped back up with smile on his face and said,

"Gotcha!"

"Oliver that wasn't funny!" Miley yelled, smacking his chest as she headed for the shore.

"It was a joke, Miley! I'm sorry!" He called after her.

"Not a funny one." She kept walking, so he followed her out of the water.

"I'm sorry Miley. I shouldn't have done that." She turned to him, extended a finger in his direction, and promised him,

"I'll get you back for that."

They both laid back down on their beach towels to dry off, and neither of them said anything for several minutes, until Miley finally spoke up.

"Hey Oliver?"

"What? He asked, shading his eyes from the sun with his hand.

"Let's play a game."

"What kind of game?" He asked, turning on his side to face her.

"Hmm...Based on looks only..." She pointed at a blonde woman in a purple bikini down by the water. "Would you sleep with her?"

"Uhh..." Oliver mumbled, confused by Miley's idea of a game. It seemed more like something a bunch of hormonal teenage boys would play.

"You can answer truthfully, Oliver. I'm not tricking you. I'll figure out a _much _better way to get back at you." She smiled diabolically and rested her upper body on her elbows, looking around the beach.

"Ummm...sure?" Oliver asked, without even looking at the woman for more than a second.

"What about that one?" She nodded toward a redhead by the snack bar behind them.

"No thank you." He answered. "What about you. Would you sleep with that guy?" He pointed toward a hairy, obese teenage boy standing next to the redhead.

"That's not even funny Oliver."

"Fine. What about the guy next to him." Miley glanced at him and looked back at Oliver.

"Based on looks...yes."

"Okay, what about-"

"It's my turn!" Miley interrupted him. She scanned the beach and pointed at a woman standing under an umbrella to their right. "That one?"

"That's not even a woman Miley."

"It is too!"

"Is not! That's a man in a bikini."

"Seriously?" Miley studied the 'woman' closer. "Oh. You're right. I really need to get my eyes checked..." Oliver grinned and nodded at the guy in front of them.

"Him?"

"Yes."

"What about that guy?" He pointed at a man to his left.

"Sure."

"That one?"

"Of course."

"What about..."

"The whole beach Oliver. The entire beach." She stuck her tongue out at him and looked behind her. "The lady at the snack bar."

"Yes."

"What about...Traci?"

"Uhh, no. Even without her voice..." Miley laughed and thought harder. "Bridget."

"The one that used to be your back up dancer or the one that used to sit at our lunch table at school and stare at us?"

"Dancer Bridget. Not creepy Bridget."

"Sure."

"What about..."

"Brad Pitt." Oliver cut in.

"No thank you. He's old now. And the whole five hundred kids think isn't very appealing."

"Okay, what about...Drew Johnson."

"Who the heck is Drew Johnson?"

"You were in a movie with him Miley..."

"OH! I forgot about him..."

"So did everybody else. But would you?"

"No."

"How about-"

"Angela Waller?"

"Yes."

"Lena Marquardt."

"Duh."

"Megan Fox."

"Do you even have to ask?" Oliver questioned, smiling. "How about..." Oliver started to ask. "Jake Ryan?" Miley looked at him for a moment with a blank expression on her face, before answering,

"No."

"Really?"

"Yes really! Is it that surprising?"

"Yes." Oliver pointed at a lifeguard, to change the subject. "What about that guy?"

"Yes."

"That guy?"

"Yes."

"That one over there."

"Yes."

"Me?"

"Yes." Miley answered without thinking. When she realized what she'd just said, she looked away from him and prayed that her face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Really?" Oliver asked, the tone of his voice calmer than it'd been all throughout the game.

"No."

"Really?"

"Based on looks, yes. Based on how annoying you're being by asking "Really?" over and over, no."

"Oh." Oliver mumbled, pulling the front of his towel into his lap.

"What about me?" Miley asked him after a moment of silence.

"What about you?" Miley's head dropped into her hands in frustration.

"Oh! I forgot we were still playing." Miley rolled her eyes and laid back down on her towel. "Definitely." Oliver finally answered.

"Really?" Miley asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh so you can say it but I can't?" Oliver joked, laying back down next to her. "Yes really. You're hot, Miles." Miley didn't know whether to smile or not. He'd just told her that he wanted to sleep with her, but coupled with her childhood nickname, it seemed more creepy than anything else.

"You wanna leave?" Miley asked him, after they laid in the sun in complete silence for several minutes.

"Sure." He answered awkwardly.

They rode in silence the rest of the way home. That was a good thing, as it gave them time to think, but it seemed more awkward than anything, at the time.

"I call the shower first!" Oliver yelled as he ran out of the elevator.

"No! I can still feel dead fish germs and the pee of small children on me. I definitely get it first." Miley complained.

"No, I get it first. I called it."

"It's my shower." Miley reminded him.

"I live here too." Oliver pointed out. They both stopped right outside of the bathroom, with their hands one over the other on the doorknob.

"So. I bought it." They stared each other down for several minutes, until together they yanked the door open.

"It's mine!"

"No it's mine!" Oliver was enjoying arguing with Miley over the shower more than the thought of actually taking one, so he climbed into the shower with his bathing suit on, turned on the water, and yanked the shower curtain closed. Miley ripped it back open and climbed in with him.

"We'll share." She decided, shoving him toward the back of the shower so that she could reach the water falling from the shower head.

"It's not sharing if you get all the water." Oliver pointed out.

"Chill out. You get it next." She squinted at him through the water that dripped down her face as she ran her fingers through her hair, letting the clean water get in to rinse it out.

Oliver squeezed past her and forced her out of the way so that he could reach the water. The smile on his face had nothing to do with winning, and everything to do with being this close to Miley when she was wet and half naked.

He faced the shower head and let the water hit him in the face. Oliver rubbed the imaginary shampoo through his hair until he felt Miley's hands on his back. They slid up to his shoulders and then back down to his waist. Oliver said nothing, holding completely still as Miley's hands roamed over his stomach. His face was completely calm - a forced calm, but calm nonetheless - while Miley had a huge smile on hers. She'd done it to get back at him for his stunt at the beach, thinking it would freak him out, but by now she knew what she was doing to him.

Miley's fingers moved dangerously close to the hem of Oliver's swimming trunks, and he held his breath as she moved closer to him. He felt her up against his back, and closed his eyes, wondering if he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming, or maybe he'd slipped and hit his head and died, and now he was in heaven.

He knew he should probably be asking "What are you doing?" or "Can you please stop that?", but instead what came out of his mouth when the tips of Miley's fingers slipped underneath the elastic at the top of his swimming trunks was

"Oh God." He opened his eyes again when he felt her breath against his neck.

"Gotcha." She whispered, before yanking the shower curtain open and jumping out laughing.

"That's not fair!" He called after her, tripping as he got out of the shower, catching himself just before he fell flat on his face. He turned off the water and stomped out into the living room, where Miley was standing, drying her hair out with her beach towel. "You can't do that to me!" He yelled at her. She kept smiling, despite the angry expression on Oliver's face.

"You pretended to get attacked by a shark Oliver. I was only getting you back." She pointed out.

"You could've done it a different way. You could've pretended to fall out the window or something." He spat angrily.

"How do you _pretend _to fall out a window?" Miley asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know. Definitely not by doing what you just did!"

"Are you seriously mad?" Miley asked, her expression softening.

"Yes!"

"You liked it though." She shifted her weight onto her right foot and her hands dropped to her waist, still clutching the beach towel. Miley still obviously found this funny, since while she wasn't outright laughing at him, she still had a smile on her face.

"That doesn't matter! It was...That was...I...You...UGH!"

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable Ollie." She said quietly, using a tone that made her sound like a little girl whose mother had just forced her to apologize. She'd purposely called him Ollie because she _wasn't _sorry, and Oliver knew that. He wasn't really as mad as he was acting, but he was embarrassed by how he'd acted, so rather than admit to liking it, he'd decided to act like he was angry.

She'd liked it. He'd liked it. But only one of them knew that. Because of Miley's prank, she now knew that they both felt the same way, while Oliver thought that she'd only done it as a joke, and not because she liked him, even in the slightest. Miley of course wasn't going to say anything, even though she knew that she could, and should. She knew that waiting on Oliver was probably hopeless, but she still didn't want to be the one to blame if this ruined their friendship, so she waited for him to say something first.

It was probably stupid to think that he ever would, Miley thought as she laid in her bed later that night. Her eyes were starting to water, so she wiped them one time, not bothering to act the part of the windshield wipers again when they started watering more, or even when they turned into tears.

What was she waiting for? Was she really that worried about ruining their friendship or was she just scared of being wrong and embarrassing herself. Maybe she _was _wrong. Maybe he didn't feel the same way. Maybe he would've acted the same way if any other girl had come so close to touching his family jewels like that.

Miley started sobbing, thinking about how stupid and immature she'd been. They'd been friends for years. Friends. For a reason. Because neither of them felt the same way as the other, and because they weren't supposed to.

The door squeaked as it opened, and Miley quickly yanked her blankets up over her face to hide her tears.

"Miles?" He whispered, calling her by her nickname again. Oliver had rarely ever called her that, the entire time they'd known each other, so there had to be a reason he was using that name so often now, right? "Are you okay?" He asked. "I heard you crying..."

"I'm fine." She mumbled through her sheets.

"No you're not. " She felt the bed move as he sat down on it.

"No really. I'm fine." She insisted. Oliver reached for the blanket she had over her face, and pulled it down, exposing her tears.

"See. You're not." He laid down next to her. "I wasn't really mad at you earlier." He confessed. "I was just really embarrassed..."

"I know." Miley told him, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry. Really."

"So that's not why you're upset?" He asked, turning his head toward her.

"No."

"Then what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No. I'm just...not having a good night, I guess." It wasn't the complete truth, but she wasn't exactly lying.

"Why?" He asked.

"Do I need a reason to have a bad night?" She responded, sniffling.

"Usually people have one."

"Oh."

"So you're sure you're okay? You're not mad at me?"

"Why would _I_ be mad at _you_?" She asked, pulling her blanket up to her neck.

"I don't know..." They were both quiet for a moment, until Miley spoke.

"Can we talk about something else?"

Oliver obliged and started talking about things his other friends had done, the weird things his mom has told him on the phone the other day, the pranks he and Jackson had played on people at the mall the last time Jackson had been home, and what the lady on the second floor had been doing when Oliver'd gone downstairs to do laundry. He definitely cheered her up, and by the time he stopped talking, Miley's side hurt from laughing.

"This place was nowhere near as exciting when you didn't live here Oliver." Miley told him truthfully.

"You're welcome." He said grinning.

They both laid in Miley's bed for a couple more minutes, staring at the moonlight on the wall, distorted because of the clouds that were passing by the moon outside. Neither of them said anything until Oliver sat up and started to get out of the bed.

"I should probably get to bed." He said quietly, walking slowly for a reason.

"No. Don't go." Miley whispered, grabbing his hand and pulling him back down to the bed.

"Miley..."

"Don't go." She repeated.

...

When Miley woke up the next morning, Oliver was gone. He'd had one last record company on his list to try, so she knew exactly where he was. She laid in bed for a moment, praying that he had good luck with this one, although she didn't want him moving out and would rather he just mooch off her forever.

Miley climbed out of bed, changed out of her too-hot pajamas, into something cooler, and went out to the kitchen, thinking that maybe she'd make him waffles. He'd certainly have good news when he came home, so he deserved more than waffles, but Miley had been a famous singer, not chef, for a reason so waffles it was.

She slid open the bottom drawer of the freezer, pulled out the frozen waffles, and set them on the counter. Next she opened a cupboard to the left of the refrigerator and took out the syrup, before trying to figure out where the toaster was supposed to be plugged in at. By the time she had the toaster ready, the door had opened and Oliver was standing in front of it. Miley forced the frozen waffles into the toaster, pressed the levers down, and turned to face him.

"How'd it go?" She asked excitedly.

"How do you think?" He answered. The tone of his voice suggested that it _didn't _go the way Miley had thought it would.

"Oh...I'm sorry. You know, I know a couple guys, I could-"

"I _don't _need your help Miley. If I don't have enough talent, I don't have enough talent. I don't need _Hannah Montana _blackmailing somebody into signing me." The way he said Miley's alter ego's name made it sound like she was a complete joke to him. Miley didn't know how to respond to that.

"I don't want to blackmail anybody Oliver. I just know a lot of people that could help you, if you'd just let them. Or do you even care anymore?"

"Of course I care!" He raised his voice, passing her and sitting down angrily on the couch. He didn't look her in the eye when she talked next.

"Well it doesn't seem like it. You're not even trying anymore."

"I'm not trying? What do you think I've been doing Miley?"

"I think you gave up a long time ago. You can do it Oliver. I know you can. There's nothing bad about accepting help from people. If you'd just let me-"

"I don't need help from somebody like you!" He spat.

"Somebody like me? Why does this always make you so moody? It doesn't even make you happy, why are you doing it?"

"Moody? You mean why does it make me like you?" He asked, not looking at the expression on Miley's face, as it grew more and more upset.

"I'm not 'moody.'" She defended, as the waffles popped up. She ignored them and stared at Oliver as he looked away from her.

"You're practically bipolar Miley. You give a new meaning to moody."

"I am not! Why are you treating me like this Oliver? I let you live in my apartment, and this is how you repay me? By treating me like a piece of shit?"

"If you don't want me living here, I'll leave. I'm sure I could find a nice dumpster down the street, where my roommate isn't constantly trying to _help _me, and actually leaves me alone when I don't want her bothering me!" He yelled at her. He got up from the couch, went into his room, and slammed the door.

"Oliver, what are you doing? I'm sorry. I know you get upset when this happens, but you don't need to be. Don't leave, please. I made you waffles! They're probably cold by now but I can reheat them..." Miley felt more like she was talking _to _a door than through one. The door flung open and almost hit her in the face.

"I'm sorry I was such a nuisance Miley. I'll see you around." Oliver told her, his voice much calmer. He had his bags in his hands, and looked serious about what he was doing.

"Oliver don't go." Miley nearly whispered, surprised to see that he was actually going through with this. He ignored her and walked through the living room, toward the door. "Oliver, please!" Miley cried after him. She had tears running down her face now, and Oliver could tell, just by hearing her voice. "Don't leave." She squeaked.

"Why shouldn't I?" Oliver asked calmly, facing her with his bags still clutched tightly in his hands. "Give me one reason to stay."

"Iloveyou." Miley mumbled loudly, barely comprehensible. Oliver dropped his things on the floor.

"What?" He asked, his voice half as loud as Miley's had been.

"I love you Oliver. I love you." She repeated clearly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I...you do?" He asked, stepping closer. He'd forgotten all about the anger and disappointment that came with another rejection, now that he'd heard her say the words he'd only dreamed of hearing coming out of her mouth.

"Yes." She whispered through the tears that were coming down her face even harder now.

"Wow...I didn't think...wow." He mumbled. Miley cleared her eyes one more time and stared at him while he struggled with what to say next. "Do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?" He finally asked her.

"You have _no _idea." Miley said with a smile, as Oliver wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers.

_**I actually thought about ending this story here, but decided not to, lucky for you. It would've made a great last chapter though, wouldn't it? This is probably the longest chapter I've written in like, forever. But I didn't want to end it sooner. I actually liked this chapter. **_**=P**

**_H__opefully you liked it toooo! Let me know. _=D**


	11. Chapter 11

_**So how many of you know what a Shadfly is? If you don't live near a river or lake, you probably don't. And you are so lucky. They honestly almost killed me last night. I am lucky to be alive. Those things are SO disgusting. I'm nauseous just thinking about it.**_

_**Anywayyyy...here's your shadfly-free eleventh chapter. Enjoy it or else.**_

* * *

"That was really cheesy, just so you know." Miley whispered in Oliver's ear while her chin rested on his shoulder.

"I never told you I was original." He defended, cherishing the feeling of having his arms around her for the last several seconds before he let go.

"I'm sorry. I should've left you alone. I know how you are when you get..." She trailed off before she could say 'rejected.'

"You don't have to apologize. I'm the one that acted like a jerk. You were right anyway. I guess I do get kind of irritable " Oliver admitted, sitting down on the couch. Miley joined him, laying across the length of the piece of furniture and resting her head in Oliver's lap.

"_Kind of_?" Miley replied, smirking. He smiled back at her, and they were both silent for a minute.

"I'm sorry." Oliver apologized, finally speaking.

"For what?" She asked, sitting up and resting her head on Oliver's shoulder instead of his lap.

"For not realizing how I felt about you sooner."

"...That was cheesy too." Miley commented, after a moment of silence. "But at least you're not still completely oblivious." She grabbed Oliver's hand and weaved her fingers through his.

"I was _not _completely oblivious."

"Sure you were. You probably thought that yesterday in the shower I was just getting you back for that stunt you pulled at the beach."

"...You weren't?"

"Nope. I just wanted to touch your bod." She told him, laughing.

"Did it live up to your expectations?" He joked back.

"It was even better." She said, grinning. Oliver couldn't help but smile too. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensation that was Miley leaning against him. An entire side of her body touching him, the feeling of her breathing the same air he was. It was ten times as exhilarating now that he knew she felt the same way.

"What are you thinking about right now?" Miley asked him, breaking the silence.

"I'm wondering if that last piece of cake is still in the fridge, cause I'm starved." He told her, abruptly standing up. Miley giggled and rested her elbows on her knees, her chin in the palms of her hands while she watched him open the refrigerator and yank the plate with the cake on it out like he hadn't eaten in a week.

Oliver turned to face her again, chewing, with a chunk of the cake held between his fingers. He swallowed, and said,

"I'm kidding."

"Sure you are." Miley replied sarcastically, standing up to join him in the kitchen. She leaned against the side of the island opposite where Oliver was standing.

"You're right." He grinned, sticking another piece of the cake in his mouth.

"I always am. You better learn that." Miley joked, reaching across the counter top for the remains of Oliver's slice of cake. He pulled it out of her reach, and mumbled with his mouth full,

"It's mine."

"Come on, you had the entire cake! _Give it to me_!" Miley whined.

_Oh I will. _Oliver thought, before mentally slapping himself in the face.

"Oliver. Cake. Now." She demanded, holding her hand out, palm facing the ceiling. He reluctantly gave in and passed her the paper plate with the remaining half a slice of cake left on it. Miley glanced across the room at the silverware drawer, and then back down at the cake, before picking up the entire piece and shoving it into her mouth. Oliver watched in awe, thinking about what else she would put in her mouth with such force, and then pinched his own leg, since the internal slapping didn't seem to be working.

One by one, she stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking the remnants of the cake off each and every one of them. Oliver stopped breathing. He almost died when Miley leaned against the counter, seemingly unaware that he could see down her shirt, made a satisfied moaning sound, and licked her lips before saying,

"That was _so_ good." Oliver stood there for a moment with his mouth slightly open, staring at her, until he came back down to Earth and complained,

"I hope you enjoyed it, you cake thief."

"I did. Stolen cake tastes better than regular cake, you know." Miley smiled and shoved the plate at Oliver. "You can throw your plate away."

"Oh, _my _plate."

"You _did _take it out." She insisted.

"You ate it."

"So did you."

"Well...you finished it."

"Oliver why are you looking at me like that?"

_Because right now I really wanna jump you. _Oliver stomped on his foot, hard.

"Uhh...like what?" He couldn't help but stare at her. She moved her elbows together, causing two things Oliver was already having trouble not staring at to smash together, making them like a neon sign flashing in his face that he couldn't possibly resist at least glancing at.

"Like you want to eat me..." Instead of saying anything, Oliver groaned loudly and planted his face in his hands to block Miley and her breasts from his sight.

"What did I do?" She asked, the tone of her voice all innocent, like she didn't know what she was doing to him. Why _was _she doing this to him? All this time Oliver's dirty guy mind had acted relatively mature around Miley, but now that he'd kissed her, it seemed to have gone into overdrive. Why was he thinking like a hormonal teenage boy? He almost felt _guilty _thinking these things. Oh no! He was a pervert! A college age pervert, which was way worse than your average teenage pervert, but not as bad as the old man pervert. He wasn't going to be doing this every time she ate a hot dog or wore an outfit that didn't cover her entire body, was he? If he was, Oliver was screwed - figuratively, of course - because Miley _liked _hot dogs, and they didn't exactly live in Antarctica.

"Nothing..." Oliver answered, forcing a normal and unperverted smile onto his face as he looked back up at her.

"Mhmm." She hummed, obviously convinced that he was lying.

Oliver stepped back in "horror" as Miley pulled herself up onto the counter top and crawled across it in his direction. She stopped on the edge, just in front of him, with her legs tucked under her. She leaned toward him slightly, holding herself up with her hands, and said,

"See? You _are _completely oblivious."

"O-oblivious to what?" Oliver stammered, moving closer to the counter to hide himself from her. She laughed and tossed the hair hanging in her face over her shoulder, before pulling her legs out from under her and letting them dangle over the edge of the counter top.

"I was doing that on purpose." She told him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Doing...what?" Her eyes slid down his body, paused, and then back up to his face.

"You are so mean!" Oliver shouted, realizing that this was _her _fault.

"But you love me anyway, right?" She was still smiling as she leaned closer.

"If you pull up your shirt and use a fork next time...maybe." Miley laughed and pulled up the front of her shirt, leaning in for a kiss.

"I love making you mad." She decided out loud.

"_I_ don't love it..." Oliver grumbled.

"I won't do it again...I promise."

"Your fingers are crossed behind your back, aren't they?" Oliver called her out on it and she smiled innocently back at him.

"_Nooo..._"

"Liar."

"I'm not a liar!"

"Are too!" He argued.

"Am not!"

"_Are _too!"

"_Am not!"_

"Aretoo."

"D2." Oliver stared blankly back at her. "What? You totally set yourself up for that."

"Did not." Miley rolled her eyes and countered,

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did _not." _Miley hopped down off the counter, shoved Oliver against the refrigerator behind him, and attacked his lips with her own to shut him up. She pressed her body against his as hard as she could until he turned his head and shouted,

"Stop doing that! You're pure evil!" Miley simply smiled in response. "Am I gonna have to get a restraining order against you?"

"I hope not." She stepped toward him and he took a step back. She moved closer, and he moved further away. He stepped backward, toward the sliding glass doors, and Miley followed him.

"Stay away from me." He whispered, his smile contradicting the words he was saying.

"No." Miley refused, her facial expression matching his.

"Yes." He stepped to the side, and backed into the living room. When he glanced behind him to make sure he didn't trip over something, Miley took that chance to run toward him. Oliver sprinted toward his bedroom, disappearing from the spot he'd been standing at only milliseconds before Miley got to it. She ran into the bedroom after him, and at the doorway, she took a flying leap and tackled him, forcing him down onto the bed.

"Oww!" Oliver complained, trying not so hard to get out from under her.

"I'm not _that _heavy. It didn't hurt that bad." Oliver opened his mouth to say something when a buzzing sound interrupted him. Miley used the hand placed next to Oliver's left shoulder to reach into her back pocket and pull out her cell phone. She slid it open and hit the talk button, before holding it to her ear.

"Hello?" She answered, rolling off of Oliver and freeing him from her trap. Oliver remained on the bed, breathing heavily, as Miley directed all of her attention to the phone conversation. After a couple of minutes, she hung up and curved her midsection upward so that she could slide her phone back into her back pocket.

"That was my dad." She explained. "He's planning Jackson's graduation party. Can you believe it? He's finally graduating from college. In two weeks. It's so weird."

"Yeah. And next year it'll be Lilly. I feel so old..."

"And then there's us. The idiots who didn't go to college." Miley laughed and took a deep breath.

"You could have. You seem like college material."

"Yeah, but there's no reason for me to go to college. I've got enough money, It's not like I really have to worry about how I'm going to pay my bills. Besides, if I decided to get a job, it'd mean that somewhere somebody less fortunate doesn't have one."

"That's true Miles. Always thinking of the unemployed." Oliver laughed to himself, and Miley replied,

"That's just my excuse for laziness, actually." She smiled at him and then closed her eyes. "I can't believe it's all going by so fast."

"What is?"

"Life. Everything. I feel like I just graduated high school."

"Well it was only like, three years ago. It hasn't really been _that _long."

"It feels like it was yesterday." She told him, staring at the ceiling fan as its blades spun around and around.

"Sometimes I wish I could fast forward. To where my life is better." Oliver confessed, reaching blindly for Miley's hand while he stared up at the ceiling. He wrapped his fingers around hers and held them there, as Miley asked him,

"What's so bad about your life?"

"It's better now. Now that I have you." Miley snorted, turned on her side to face him, and started laughing. "What?" Oliver asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"We're so _cheesy_." She told him again, through her laughter.

"I'm sorry." Oliver replied, joining in on the laughter.

"No it's okay. I kinda like it."

"I kinda like you." He replied, laughing even harder.

"You're making it worse."

...

The days went by, and before they knew it, a week had gone by, and then another, and Miley and Oliver had reached Friday. It was the day of Jackson's graduation. The ceremony took place at 1 PM, while the party Mr. Stewart had planned for his son started at 6.

"You think anybody would notice if we didn't go?" Miley asked Oliver as she searched through her closet for something to wear. She held a grey T-shirt up to her chest, staring into the mirror. She pulled her lips inward, as if she were thinking, and put it back.

"Your dad might. And who knows, Jackson must be educated enough to notice that his sister is missing, since he actually gets to graduate and all."

"That's true." She responded, pulling out a green dress and then abruptly putting it back.

"Miley?" Oliver asked, staring into her closet as her stereo blasted through the apartment, coming from the living room.

"What?"

"Where'd all those clothes come from?"

"I don't know, stores?" She replied, turning around to face him with a raised eyebrow.

"No, I mean...the last time I saw your closet...it was practically empty."

"What? I didn't show you?"

"Show me what?" Oliver asked, confused. Miley disappeared to the far left side of her closet, there was a clicking noise, and she stepped back out, pulling the doors open further. Much to Oliver's surprise, the rod the majority of Miley's clothes were hanging on began to turn, along with the back wall of the closet itself. The entire thing rotated until it snapped into place, and the clothes Oliver remembered seeing in Miley's closet, along with the boxes of pictures Oliver had looked through before, were in the place of the colorful clothes and shoes that had previously been packed into Miley's closet.

"Whoa. Cool!" Oliver exclaimed, getting up off of Miley's bed to take a closer look.

"I know! I didn't have enough closet space so I bribed the landlord into letting me do this." Miley responded excitedly. She suddenly reached toward the row of clothing and plucked out a yellow dress. "I forgot I had this!" She held it up, looked in the mirror, and turned to Oliver, who'd moved back to her bed and was now laying down. "What do you think?"

He stared at it, wondering why she was asking him. It was strapless, pale yellow, and fell just above her knees. He'd definitely like to see her in it. Or out of it. Either one would be fine.

"Too bright for graduation?" Miley asked, since Oliver wasn't saying anything.

"You're not going to a funeral Miley. You can wear whatever color you want."

"I don't think I've worn this yet. I'll have to try it on." She decided, nodding to herself. She stood there for a second, and turned to face Oliver.

"What?"

"I _said _I'll have to try it on."

"...And you're looking at me like that...why?"

"You need to leave, Oliver."

"Why?" He whined, comfortable lying on her bed.

"I'm changing my clothes Oliver. You no looky."

"Lilly's seen you in your underwear before."

"Yeah, well Lilly doesn't have a-" She stopped herself, and reworded her statement. "Lilly's not a guy."

"I've seen it all before."

"Yeah, on _accident._" She pointed out, resting her left hand on her hip while the right hand clutched the dress.

"I'll close my eyes." Oliver offered, completely unwilling to get up.

"No you won't."

"I promise." Miley rolled here eyes and gave up.

She looped the dress over the handle on the bottom drawer of her dresser, while she opened the one above it and pulled out something black that looked to Oliver like a bra. She turned around to look at him, and Oliver quickly looked back up at the ceiling, making sure to close his eyes. He opened them again a couple seconds later as, with her back to him (she knew he'd crossed his fingers when he'd promised not to look) she pulled off the t shirt she'd been wearing. Oliver didn't even notice that it had until after his mouth had fallen open, when she reached behind her to take off the bra she was wearing. It fell to the floor, and Oliver kept staring at her bare back, while she put the strapless bra she'd just taken out of the drawer on.

"Are your eyes closed?" She asked him, although it would've been a much more useful question a couple minutes earlier, since there was nothing left to see now.

"Yes."

"No they're not."

"Yes they are." Oliver lied. Miley rolled her eyes again. At least, Oliver guessed that she did, since he couldn't see her face. She pulled the dress on and adjusted it, before dropping the shorts she'd put it on on top of.

"You can open your eyes now. Since they were closed the whole time..."

"They were." Oliver insisted.

"_Sure_." Miley smiled at him as she dug through her jewelry box. She pulled out a bunch of colored beads and placed them around her neck.

"What do you think?"

"I think you look like a hypocrite who flashed a whole lot of people at Mardi Gras but won't let me stay in the room when you change your clothes."

"'They look like Mardi Gras beads' would've been good enough, Oliver." He smiled at her and sat up, watching her search through her jewelry. She pulled out a silver necklace and a black one and put both of them on together. "What about this?"

"I can't see a reason to make fun of you for it."

"Good. I'll wear this." She smiled and looked at the clock. "You need to get ready Oliver. We have to go in twenty minutes." Oliver sulkily stood up and followed Miley out of her bedroom. She went to the bathroom to put on her makeup and fix her hair - since apparently fifteen minutes was all it took to ruin it - while Oliver went to his room to get dressed.

As always, Oliver was the one waiting in the living room when they were supposed to be leaving. He was sitting on the couch, tapping his foot impatiently, when Miley came out of the bathroom, turned off the stereo, and said,

"We have to leave _now, _Oliver."

"I know! I'm the one who was waiting." He pointed out. She ignored him and hurried toward the door, hopping on one foot while she put her heels on. She turned around at the door and asked him,

"Did you even brush your hair?" She put her purse down on the floor and combed her fingers through Oliver's hair, trying to fix it.

"No. You were hogging the bathroom." He mumbled.

"I never said you had to stay out." She reminded him, grabbing her purse and opening the door.

"Oh so you demand that I stay out of your room while you get dressed, but I'm welcome in the bathroom when you're in there?"

"I was just putting on makeup Oliver. It's different. And I let you stay in there so you don't need to use that against me." Miley told him, a grumpy tone to her voice. She pulled her strapless dress up and brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"I'm not using it against you. I was joking, Miles." She pressed the elevator button and glanced at him, but said nothing, until they got down to the car.

"Do you want me to drive?" Oliver asked, sticking his hands in his back pockets like he had a spare set of keys in there.

"Sure." Miley mumbled, tossing him the keys. He failed to catch them , and they fell to the ground. Miley giggled and used the worn out line, "Nice catch."

By the time they reached the graduation ceremony, they were ten minutes late. They rushed toward the rows and rows of white folding chairs taking up the front lawn, and found two seats together in the back row, since finding Lilly and Miley's family would involve going all the way down the aisle and -knowing Miley- making a scene.

"I guess we're not as late as I thought we were." Miley commented, standing up slightly to pull her dress up again.

"Or they delayed the ceremony because they were waiting for you." Miley tried to hide a smile by keeping her mouth closed, but her lips revealed her true intention. "They're all gonna turn around and stare at you in 3...2....1" He made a motion with his hands like a magician would when he's pulled off a magic trick, but nothing happened.

"Nice." Miley said, brushing her hair out of her eyes again.

"You can't lie, it would've been awesome if they'd turned around." Miley giggled a little too loudly, and the man in front of her turned to see what her problem was, which caused her to laugh even louder. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stop it, and aimed a death glare at Oliver for making her laugh.

After a couple hours, and several complaints from Oliver, the ceremony was finally over, and they were free to leave. Miley drug Oliver down the aisle between the rows of chairs, to where she'd spotted her dad and Lynne earlier. Lilly was standing with them, talking to Jackson, who'd just made his way down the aisle from the opposite direction.

Miley snuck up behind her dad and Lilly, who were standing next to each other, and put a finger to her lips to tell Lynne - who was facing Miley's direction- to be quiet.

"Jackson!" She shouted, causing Lilly and her dad to jump in surprise. "I'm so proud of you!" Miley told him, engulfing him in a huge hug before turning to face Lilly, who had a slightly angry expression on her face.

"Congratulations, man." Oliver said as he moved closer to the group. He stuck out his hand for a high five, and Jackson followed through.

"Where were you guys?" Lilly asked, glaring at Miley.

"Well, Oliver took forever to get ready, so we were late and just sat in the back."

"_I _made us late? You were the one in the bathroom for twenty minutes doing your hair."

"I was doing my makeup."

"Same thing."

"No it isn't."

"Look at that, Jackson! She's already replaced you!" Robby Ray said, laughing. Miley stared at Oliver for a second, mortified that her father had just compared her boyfriend to her brother.

"Does this mean I don't have to come home for the holidays?" Jackson asked, smirking like he knew something.

"I'm afraid not, son."

"Aww man!" Jackson complained.

"What, you don't wanna come home for Christmas and see your favorite sister?"

"...If I had another sister, you wouldn't be my favorite." Miley glared at him and slapped his shoulder. "Oww!"

"That did _not _hurt! Quit being a baby!"

"See? This is why Lilly is my favorite sister, and not you."

"Lilly doesn't count." Miley told him.

"_What?_" Lilly asked, finally speaking.

"No offense." Miley added.

"None taken."

"Lilly _should _count." Jackson decided. "She was at our house more than you were."

"That is _not _true."

"It is too."

"Looks like you're the one being replaced now, Oliver." Robby Ray said, patting Oliver on the back. Oliver's eyes got huge, and he looked down at the ground to hide his facial expression from everyone else.

"If we don't leave soon we're gonna look like idiots standing around on the front lawn arguin'." Lynne pointed out. Everybody agreed, and she, Lilly, Robby Ray, Jackson, Oliver and Miley all went back to their respective homes, to get ready for Jackson's graduation party.

"That was the longest, hottest, boringest-"

"Boringest isn't a word." Miley interrupted.

"That was the longest, hottest, most boring graduation ceremony I've ever been to in my life."

"Oliver the only other graduation ceremony you've ever gone to was yours."

"...So." Miley laughed and disappeared into her bedroom. Oliver followed her and stood in the doorway, with his right hand resting against the door frame. Miley opened one of her dresser drawers, pulled out a white zip-up sweatshirt and turned around to face him.

"I'm ready! Now what do we do for the next two hours?"

"We could...play half a game of monopoly..." Oliver suggested, stepping into her room. "Do a load of laundry..." He moved closer to Miley, and she stood there, smiling at him as he stepped closer to her. "Watch 2/3 of Lord Of The Rings...Or we could just make out."

"I like that last suggestion." She whispered, grabbing his hands and pulling them toward her. Oliver said nothing, and just kissed her, covering every word that he needed to say. She let go of his hands and placed hers on the back of his head and his neck, keeping him in the position he was currently in. He came up for air and a tiny smile flickered across his face, before he went in for more. Miley backed up, closer to her bed, and Oliver willingly followed her, without taking his lips off hers until they were up against her mattress. He placed his hands on both sides of her waist, lifted her and set her back down on the bed, using his knee to hoist himself up on top of her. She laid down and pulled him down with her, using the hands that were still around his neck.

"Oliver." She whispered, turning her head so that his lips left hers and moved down her neck instead.

"What?" He mumbled, with his lips pressed against her soft skin.

"I know it's probably too soon to say this...but I love you. I really do."

"Mmmm." He hummed into her neck. "So do I." She moved back to his lips, sliding her fingers down his back, until they rested at his tailbone.

Oliver slowed his kisses, until he was hovering over Miley, not doing anything.

"Oliver?" She asked, confused as to why he'd stopped.

"Miley...have you ever had sex?" He asked her, sitting up and moving off of her. She sat up too, pulling her dress - which had fallen to her waist - back up, and supported her body by placing her hands behind her.

"I...Once. It was honestly the biggest mistake of my life. I...don't know what I was thinking. That's pathetic, right? My age and I've only done it once. And I regret it."

"That's not pathetic." Oliver assured her. "Who..."

"You know how after sophomore year I started going back to Tennessee to see my family?" Oliver nodded. "Well...every time I'd go...Travis and I -I told you about him, right?" Oliver nodded again. "Well every time I saw him...we just got closer and closer...and after a while, I...well I knew I loved him. I just...didn't think I loved him _enough, _you know...so...one night...the summer after Senior year...in the hayloft, of all places - Let me tell you, that is _not _as romantic as they make it sound. It's actually really painful..." She wiped her eyes, even though she wasn't crying. "Well it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. After, I just felt really guilty, and I didn't love him any more than I had before. It actually was why we broke up. And why I stopped going back. I just...I don't think I was ready. I couldn't look at him the same way."

"Is that why..."

"That's why I started taking the pills." She whispered, like it was a big secret. "You probably think I'm the biggest loser. Most girls my age have done it tons of times. But nope. Just once."

"If you're a loser, I'm a bigger loser." Oliver told her. "Not even once."

"Really?" She asked him, her eyes tearing up by now.

"I almost did one time...but you know what they say. Almost only counts in horseshoes and-" A confused expression crossed his face for a moment. "Horseshoes and..."

"Hand grenades." Miley finished for him.

"Yeah, that. Thanks."

"You're welcome." She said, laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"We go from talking about Sex and Depression...to finishing sentences and thank yous."

"Oh...right."

"So...almost?" Miley urged him to finish his story.

"Yeah...umm...do you remember Brooke?"

"Oh, that nasty-I mean...lovely girl you dated after Lilly?"

"Yeah...Well...we were just about to do it, when she told me that she'd already lost her virginity-"

"So? What's so bad about that?" Miley asked, panicking. If he had a problem with that back then, would he now?

"Nothing. But she lost it to her 8th grade English teacher."

"EWW! That's disgusting!"

"Yeah, and he wasn't even her teacher yet. She was in 7th grade when it happened."

"That's horrible. I always knew she was a nasty whore." Miley said, shaking her head in disgust.

"I'm surprised you even remember her." Oliver commented, not at all offended by the insulting name Miley'd just called his ex-girlfriend.

"Why wouldn't I? You guys were together for a long time."

"Yeah, well...you weren't around much back then. With Hannah and all."

"I'm sorry Oliver. If I could go back-"

"You wouldn't change anything. Everything is perfect the way it is now. You wouldn't want to mess this up." She smiled at him, squeezing his hand, and asked,

"So why did you bring this up?"

"I, uhh...just wanted to know."

"If we could...have sex?" She finished what he'd been thinking but had decided not to say.

"Yeah." He mumbled, staring down at the bed, and forcing his eyes back up to her face.

"Someday." She told him, squeezing his hand harder.

"Okay." He agreed.

"Not now."

"Yeah. Well it's time to go anyway." He joked, glancing at the clock. Miley turned around to check the time, saw that it was nearly 5:30, and jumped off her bed, running for the door.

"We're gonna be so late! Again!" She shouted as she ran toward the bathroom to redo her hair and makeup.

...

Even though it was quarter after six when Miley and Oliver arrived at Miley's childhood home, where the party was, they didn't get out of the car right away.

"I don't think we should tell them we're together yet." Miley said, staring out the windshield blindly.

"Why? It's not like we're getting married. It's not a big deal." Miley turned to look at him with an "Are you an idiot" expression on her face.

"Think about how Lilly will act. And my dad...and my grandma...It'd be better to just let Jackson have his day. We can tell them tomorrow..."

"I guess you're right."

"You guess?" Miley laughed and told him, "Just don't look at me or touch me or talk to me like you wouldn't have a couple months ago." Oliver nodded, agreeing. He watched her climb out of the car and get bombarded by family members that hadn't seen her in a long time, and wondered how she could possibly think it was that easy to act like he wasn't completely in love with her.

_**Holy crap. This chapter was soooooo long. Would've been longer, but No Ifs Ands Or Maybes is very impatient, so I cut it off here. You're welcome...**_

_**I'm gonna be really disappointed if you guys don't like this chapter and it ends up being a massive waste of my time and words. :( So you liked it, okay? You LOVED it. Right? **_


	12. Chapter 12

_**How was all you Americans' Fourth of July? Hopefully it was great, but if it wasn't...I'm sorry. :( It rained all day here, but I had to work, and rain means no customers which means no working. So it wasn't too bad. xp**_

_**It is soooo hot in my room right now. I need to turn on the fan but if I do, the dog will hog it. **_

_**Shut up Lindsey, and write already. **_

**=D**

* * *

Oliver got out of Miley's car and followed her to the three white tents that had been set up in the backyard to house the tables where all the party guests had congregated, making sure not to follow too closely. He made his way to the refreshments table and grabbed himself some punch, before looking for Jackson, who was standing by a table covered in pictures, talking to an elderly woman and three men Oliver assumed where his friends.

"And so the moral of the story is, don't eat green potatoes." Jackson finished telling his story and looked up to see Oliver standing there. "Hey Oken! I need to talk to you."

"...About what?" Oliver asked nervously.

"You'll see." Jackson replied, rubbing his hands together evilly. Oliver's eyes doubled in size, but he said nothing. Jackson left the group and went to go greet some other guests, leaving Oliver alone with an old woman and Larry, Curly and Moe.

Larry whispered something to Moe and Curly, while looking at Oliver, and they all laughed. The Three Stooges didn't seem at all interested in talking to him, so Oliver walked away and found somebody he actually knew to talk to.

A few of Jackson's high school friends were sitting at the end of a table, and since Jackson and Oliver had been friends in high school, Oliver actually knew these guys. He made his way across the tent and sat down next to Brent Jamison, a guy that had been in Oliver's grade throughout high school.

"Hey Oken." All four of the guys greeted simultaneously.

"Hey." Oliver replied, with a nod of the head. The four he was sitting with hadn't really been Oliver's best friends. In fact, he only remembered two of their names. They weren't exactly the most exciting of companions, and Oliver would _much _rather have been with Miley, but these guys would do. They weren't very talkative, and nobody said much until Brent brought up Oliver's career.

"So how's the music thing going?"

"Umm...it's...going. Very slowly."

"Ohhh...well...good luck."

"Thanks." Oliver mumbled, unsure if Brent had actually meant good luck, or if he was being sarcastic.

"Who's that hottie you showed up with?" Will Johnston, the only other guy whose name Oliver knew, asked him.

"Huh?" Will stuffed the last bit of the maid rite that had been sitting on the plate in front ot him into his mouth, and nodded across the room. Oliver turned around to see Miley, talking to her grandmother four tables over. "Oh, Miley?"

Will spit the burger back out onto his plate.

"Seriously? _Miley_? As in Jackson's little sister Miley?" The other guys turned around to see what Will was freaking out about, and turned back with all of their expressions matching.

"...How many other girls do you know with a name like that?" Oliver answered, wondering what was so weird about this.

"She got _hot. _Who would've thought she and Jackson were related." Oliver agreed that Miley and Jackson didn't look much alike, but he didn't say anything, due to how uncomfortable he was feeling now.

"So what's the deal with you two?" Will asked.

"Uhh...what do you mean?"

"You fucked her yet?" He asked, laughing.

"I...we're just friends." Oliver lied, not answering the question.

"Do you _want _to fuck her?"

"...Yes." The guys all started laughing, and one of the nameless ones said,

"You have no chance." The other guys nodded in agreement, and Oliver wanted to tell them how wrong they were, but he didn't say anything.

"We're sharing an apartment." Oliver spit out after a moment of silence.

"No you're not." Will, Brent, and the other two said in unison.

"Ask her. We are." He was hoping they'd believe him and wouldn't ask her, but hoping did nothing, and Will yelled,

"Hey Miley!" Miley turned around to see him, waved, turned back to her grandmother, and then made her way toward the table they were all sitting at. She stood behind Oliver and rested her hands on the back of his chair.

"You look really good." Will told her, quickly glancing at Oliver before looking back up at Miley.

"Thanks." Miley said quietly. The look on her face said that she didn't really remember Will.

"Are you and Oken _really _sharing an apartment? He's lying, right?" Miley looked down at Oliver and narrowed her eyes, before answering with a smile,

"No, he's not lying. He moved into my apartment a few months ago."

"Why?" Brent asked, finally speaking after the long amount of time where he let Will do all the talking.

"Frankly, Brent, I don't think that's any of your business." And with that, she left.

_"__Frankly, Brent, I don't think that's any of your business." _Will mocked her, laughing. Brent's face turned red, and he looked away from Will, right at Oliver, like he was expecting some sort of sympathy from him, since he was only getting made fun of by the other guys.

"Well...I'm gonna go get more food...and go talk to..." He looked around the room and pointed at a random guy he didn't know. "Joe."

"Sure you are." The nameless guy who had yet to speak said, as Oliver got out of his seat.

"Going to meet Miley in the outhouse?" Will teased.

"Yes, yes I am." Oliver said, annoyed.

"We'll tell people to stay away from the one that's shaking!" Will called after him, and Oliver walked away to the tune of them all laughing.

Oliver went back to the refreshment table and loaded his plate full of food, before going back to the table where the three guys who'd laughed at him had been standing half an hour earlier. Taking his time, Oliver looked at all of the pictures of Jackson growing up. There were pictures of Jackson as a baby, pictures of him with his mother when he was a toddler, a lot of pictures of him and Miley over the years, and even a few group photos of Jackson, Miley, Lilly and Oliver, which was more photographs than there were of Jackson with his own friends. Oliver was looking at Jackson's prom pictures when somebody poked him in the back.

"Oww."

"Hey Oken. I gotta talk to you." Jackson said, appearing beside him with his back to the table like he was looking to make sure nobody saw him talking to Oliver.

"You already told me that. What do you need to talk to me about?"

"I saw the way you were looking at my sister earlier. What's going on?" Jackson asked.

"Why does everybody keep asking me that?"

"I don't know. Why aren't you answering?" Jackson countered, sitting down on the edge of the table, on top of a picture labeled 'Jackson's 5th birthday.'

"There's nothing going on." Oliver lied.

"You sure?" Jackson asked.

"Yes. Why do you care anyway?"

"She's my sister."

"So? You never cared before? Remember Jake, Frank, Bob, George, Bill, Mike, John?"

"Miley never dated a Frank, Bob, George, Bill, Mike, or John." Jackson pointed out.

"I was making a point."

"...What _was _your point?"

"You never cared about any of Miley's boyfriends before, and I give her one weird look and you turn into a detective?"

"I didn't turn into a detective."

"Then why are you questioning me?" Oliver asked him, stuffing a piece of watermelon into his mouth.

"...I've got my eye on you Oken." Jackson warned him, waving an index finger in Oliver's face.

"Okay. I'll try to remember that."

"You better."

"I will." Jackson walked away, leaving Oliver confused and alone, until another hand was placed on his shoulder.

"What was that all about?" Miley asked, immediately removing her hand and hoping that nobody had seen it.

"I honestly have no idea."

"Oh."

"Can we leave yet? I'm bored."

"_No_. It would look bad if I left my own brother's graduation party early."

"We could sneak out. Maybe nobody would notice." Oliver suggested.

"Or maybe we could...sneak up to my room."

"We can't leave without somebody seeing us, but we can sneak up to your room without people noticing?"

"Yes. Do you want to or not?" Miley asked, resting her hands on her hips.

"Of course I do."

"Okay. Then meet me up there in a couple minutes." She smiled at him and walked away, leaving Oliver to stand by himself at the childhood pictures of her brother.

When Miley disappeared out of his sight, Oliver counted to thirty and went in through the back door. He looked around to make sure nobody was inside, and quietly made his way up the stairs. Oliver had never knocked on Miley's door before, - usually he was with Lilly, and she just shoved it open - so doing it now felt weird. Miley opened the door and pulled him inside. She closed the door behind him and said,

"We never got to finish before."

"Finish what?" Oliver asked distractedly as she placed her lips on his.

"This." She said, laughing, as she kissed him again. Oliver wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up against him. Miley stepped backward, taking Oliver with her. She pulled him down onto her bed with her and rolled on top of him.

"Don't you feel weird doing this here?" He asked, breaking away from her kiss.

"Why would I?"

"I don't know. You pretty much grew up here." He replied, rolling over so that she was beneath him again.

"Like I haven't made out with a guy in this bed before." She replied, kissing him harder.

"You didn't need to tell me that." Oliver told her. She could feel the edges of his lips curl upward when they attached themselves to hers again.

His hands slid slowly up her sides, and one of them paused with his thumb over her belly button, while the other kept going, to the base of her neck.

"Not my hair." She mumbled. "They'll know." He moved his hands back down and flipped her back on top of him. She slid down, so that her mouth was level with the top button on his shirt. She sucked it into her mouth and spit it back out, unbuttoned. Her eyes met his as she moved onto the next one, and he looked shocked.

"How'd you do that?" He asked her breathlessly. She smiled, although he couldn't see it, and answered,

"Practice."

She had the top three buttons unbuttoned when she gave up and used her fingers instead. Her mouth moved back up to his while she unbuttoned the last button on his shirt and pulled it open. Oliver closed his eyes, concentrating mostly on the feeling of Miley's dress against his bare skin, and the taste of her lips on his.

Miley sat up, straddling his hips, and pulled his shirt off of him. Oliver was thinking to himself that she was going too far, considering there were dozens of people downstairs, including her dad and several of her other relatives, but there was no way in hell he was going to ask her to stop.

The moment he thought about it would've been the perfect time to stop, since not even a minute later, the doorknob turned and the door squeaked open. Miley and Oliver both fell off of the bed, in shock, when Miley's dad appeared in the doorway. He didn't seem to have seen anything, but looked surprised anyway, to find his daughter in her bedroom. Oliver slid underneath her bed, hiding, as Miley stood up, adjusting her dress.

"Hey Daddy..." She mumbled, wiping her mouth.

"What are you doing in here, Mile-"

"Nothing." She spit out before he could even finish saying her name. "I mean, nothing bad, of course. I just...wanted to see my room. I haven't been in here in a while. Feelin' homesick, you know?"

"Oh...well, I was just looking for a photo album..." He opened the doors to her closet and grabbed a large book off of the top shelf. "Forgot to put this one out." He explained, leaving the room. Miley closed the door behind him and sighed loudly.

"That was close."

"Tell me about it." Oliver said, coughing as he slid out from under Miley's bed. "I don't think anybody's vacuumed under your bed in like, a decade."

"Sorry. I never used to hide guys under there, but I guess there's a first time for everything." She smiled at him and held out a hand to help him up. Oliver stood up and coughed again -too dramatically this time for it to be real.

"Next time, let's lock the door."

"What makes you think there'll be a next time?" Miley teased, smiling as she helped him put his shirt back on.

"Oh I don't know..." Oliver muttered, placing his hand on her rear end. She squealed and slapped his shoulder as they started down the hallway to the stairs together.

"There won't be a next time for that." She told him.

"Whatever you say." He replied, doing it again.

"Oliver stop it." Miley pushed him into the wall and hurried down the stairs ahead of him.

"Ha. Beat you."

"Oh great, my girlfriend's six." He teased, sticking his tongue out to mimic her childish behavior.

"Hey, I want you to meet my nana." Without waiting for a reply, she drug Oliver out of the house and across the yard, to a table where Miley's grandma Ruby was sitting by herself, eating. Miley sat down across from her, pulling Oliver down into the chair next to her, and introduced the two.

"Nice to meet you." Oliver mumbled, shaking his girlfriend's maternal grandmother's hand.

"Nice to meet you too." Ruby said, scooping another forkful of food into her mouth. "You want the rest of this?" She asked Oliver, holding the plate out in front of him.

"Yes!" Oliver exclaimed, grabbing the plate from her and starting to eat.

"That's the best way to make a guy happy." Ruby told Miley. "Offer him food." Miley laughed and turned to watch Oliver shovel her grandma's food into his mouth.

Miley and her grandmother started talking about things Oliver didn't care about or understand, so he concentrated on eating and ignored them. When he finished eating the food that wasn't his, they were discussing how Ruby had recently remodeled her living room.

"Cake!" Oliver shouted, when he saw Robby Ray carry out a large sheet cake. He stood up and started for his dessert before Mr. Stewart had a chance to even set it on the table.

"You're coming back, right?" Miley called after him. He ignored her and scooped up three slices of the cake, squeezing it all onto a plate that was almost too small.

"You gonna save some for the rest of us?" Mr. Stewart joked, as he cut himself a slice.

"Maybe..." Oliver replied, grabbing a fork.

"This is Miley's favorite kind of cake. She'd eat the whole thing if she could." Mr. Stewart remarked, looking up at Oliver with an odd look on his face. Oliver couldn't imagine Miley eating an entire cake, nor could he imagine why her dad was telling him this. "Why don't you bring her a slice." Robby Ray handed Oliver another plate with a big slice of cake on it.

"Umm, okay." Oliver grabbed a fork and walked away from the table, wondering if maybe Mr. Stewart had actually seen him in Miley's room with her, which would explain why he'd given Oliver the little fun fact, not to mention the weird look.

When Oliver got back to the table, Lilly was sitting in his seat.

"Hey. That's my seat." Oliver said loudly.

"It wasn't when I sat in it."

"Yes it was." Lilly rolled her eyes and spotted the extra piece of cake Oliver was holding.

"Aww, you brought me cake!" She reached up for the plate, and Oliver pulled it away from her.

"No I didn't. That's Miley's." He told her, nervously sitting down next to Ruby and sliding the cake toward Miley.

"Aww, thanks Oliver!" Miley exclaimed, taking a bite.

"Oh, so you got _her_ some but not me?" Lilly commented.

"I didn't know you were here."

"You wouldn't have got me any even if you'd known I was." Lilly decided, eyeing the slice of cake Miley was eating.

"Yeah, probably not."

"You can go get me some now though!"

"No I can't." Oliver assured her.

"Why not?"

"Because you can get it yourself!"

"_Fine._" Lilly stood and politely - and very unlike herself - asked Miley's grandmother if she wanted a slice.

"No thanks honey. I should probably get going soon. I have a couple friends to see before I leave tomorrow."

"You're leaving already? Nana I haven't seen you in like, two years." Miley complained, setting her fork down next to her half-eaten slice of cake.

"Well whose fault is that?" Ruby replied, grinning at Miley. "You'll have to come out to Tennessee sometime. It's a lot easier for you to fly than me, you know."

"Yeah. I should go see you sometime soon." Miley mumbled sadly.

"It was so nice seeing you again, sweety." Ruby told Miley, holding out her hand to shake Miley's, since they were on opposite sides of the table and couldn't very well hug goodbye.

Miley didn't speak again, and only pushed her cake around on her plate with her fork, until Lilly came back with her own cake.

"It's gonna rain." She commented solemnly, directing her words toward Lilly.

"Yeah..." Lilly replied, turning to Oliver and giving him a 'What's wrong with her?' look. Oliver shrugged and continued eating his cake without a word.

Lilly had a difficult time starting a conversation that got more than a couple of words in response from Miley or Oliver. They only started genuinely talking when Lilly brought up a camping trip they'd gone on back in high school.

"And Oliver set up his tent too close to the fire, and it melted a huge hole in the side." Miley remembered, laughing.

"That was _not _my fault. You told me to put it there."

"It was too your fault." Miley argued.

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Was _not"_

"It was too! Oliver, you learned not to listen to me years ago."

"So. I forgot. It's still your fault."

"Whatever."

"And remember how Jackson fell asleep outside and we covered him in leaves?" Lilly asked, annoyed by their arguing.

"Yes! He had the worst tan line in history when he woke up." Miley laughed, nodding.

"And your dad kept the food in his tent and woke up in the middle of the night thinking a bear was trying to get in." Oliver said, laughing.

"Oh my gosh, I remember that." Miley snorted, trying not to laugh. "He ran out of there, screaming like a girl."

"And it ended up only being a skunk." Lilly finished, holding her side because of how hard she was laughing.

"And it sprayed Jackson." Oliver added, remembering one of his best high school memories.

"And it made him smell _better." _Miley started laughing so hard that she had to bury her face in the table.

"That was so fun. We'll have to do that again." She said, once she'd calmed down.

"Yeah. Only this time, we'll bring bug repellent. I was scratching those mosquito bites for a month after that."

"Good idea." Oliver agreed with Lilly, remembering all the mosquito bite's _he'd _got.

"Hey, I was right!" Miley exclaimed suddenly.

"Right about what?" Oliver and Lilly asked in unison.

"It's raining!" She pointed outside of the tent at the wet ground. The raindrops started getting loud as they bounced off the tent.

"You should be a weather woman. You'd probably predict the weather better than the people on channel 6 do." Lilly told Miley, looking outside, where the raindrops were bouncing off of the cars. The angry rainclouds were moving closer, darkening the sky.

"I would, but that would involve working." Miley explained, sitting back in her chair.

"Yeah, reading a teleprompter and pointing at a green screen is very hard." Lilly teased.

"Hey, you of all people should know that I can't read a teleprompter."

"Oh yeah...'Oh Jake I bet you say that to all your co-stars, push Jake.'"

"Hey, I wasn't giving you permission to make fun of me, Lilly." Miley said, glaring at her friend.

"Sorry!"

"Have either of you noticed that we're pretty much the only people still here?" Oliver asked them. Miley and Lilly turned around and saw that there were only a handful of people still at the party.

"When did everybody leave?" Miley asked, turning back to Oliver and Lilly.

"I'm guessing sometime between when they got here and now."

"Very funny, Oliver. You should be a comedian." Lilly told him, a bored tone to her voice.

"Can we leave _now_?" Oliver asked impatiently.

"Yeah, I guess so. My dad and Jackson aren't even out here anymore..." Miley said, standing up.

"See you later, Lils. Now that you're out of school for the summer we have to spend more time together." Miley said as she handed her plate to Oliver, who threw both of their plates into the garbage.

"Yeah, we do. Bye!" Lilly called after them as they walked toward the edge of the tent. "What am I doing sitting here by myself?" Lilly asked herself, before she stood up and threw away her own garbage.

"You should've parked closer." Oliver told Miley as they stood underneath the very edge of the tent, unwilling to go out where it was now raining even harder.

"Yeah, next time I'll try to park right under the cake." Miley said sarcastically as she held her arms up to shield her hair and ran out into the rain. Oliver followed right behind her, and by the time they made it to Miley's car, which was only a couple of yards away from the tent, they were soaked.

Miley of course dropped her keys when she pulled them out of her purse, requiring her to get down on her hands and knees to retrieve them from their position underneath her car. Oliver just stared at her, not caring much about the rain anymore.

By the time they were inside the car, they were soaked to the bone.

"Is it just me or did it just get really cold?" Miley asked Oliver, as she started the car.

"The air's on."

"Oh." Miley reached over and turned off the air conditioning. She shivered as she buckled her seat belt and placed her hands on the steering wheel.

Once they were on the road, Oliver asked,

"Are you sure your dad didn't see me?"

"Believe me. He would've said something if he had."

"He gave me a really weird look and I was kind of worried he knew."

"That's just how he is. I wouldn't worry about it." Miley assured him, pressing down harder on the gas pedal as the speed limit increased.

"I think Jackson knows."

"Is that what he was talking to you about earlier?" She asked, glancing at him and then back at the road.

"Yeah. He told me he saw how I was looking at you earlier. I don't know what he was talking about..."

"He didn't see anything. He was probably just messing with you."

"That _does _sound like something he'd do." Oliver agreed, pulling on his wet shirt to unglue it from him.

Throughout the ride upstairs in the elevator, Miley and Oliver listened to the sound of the water dripping from their clothes.

"How can it be bright and sunny one minute, and pouring down rain the next?" Miley asked, wringing out the bottom of her dress.

"Don't ask me. I'm the future comedian. You're the future weatherwoman."

"I don't have much of a future if I can't answer my own question, do I?" She asked, giggling as the elevator slid to a stop. The doors opened and Miley got out first, going through her keys to find the one for her front door. Just as she was about to put the key in, Oliver pressed her up against the door. She turned around to face him and smiled at him.

"I need to unlock the door." She told him. He leaned over and kissed her, and said,

"Is there a job that could use your unbuttoning skills? Maybe you have more of a future in that."

"I don't know. Prostitute maybe?" Miley suggested, grinning.

"Hmm. Then I guess I'd rather you stay unemployed." Oliver decided out loud.

"Don't worry. I'm just gonna be _your _prostitute."

"I'm not gonna have to pay, am I?"

"We'll see." Miley joked, turning to unlock the door, while she was still pressed against it. The door open and she almost fell backward, staying upright only because Oliver caught her. He kissed her again, before she could say anything, and closed the door behind them.

"You're really wet." Miley told him, laughing.

"So are you. I can see through your dress." He pointed out. Miley looked down and said,

"Well, I can't see through your shirt, but I have other ways of seeing what's under it." She reached for the fourth button down on his shirt, since she hadn't rebuttoned the two above it when she'd first taken it off.

She unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, pulled it off of him, and hung it over the back of a barstool in the kitchen.

"Does this mean I get to take yours off?" He asked her, running his fingers through his wet hair.

"Nope." She told him, a huge smile on her face before she took off for her bedroom to change into dry clothes.

...

Later that night, while the rain still poured and the lightning lit up the sky, Miley lay on the couch with her head in Oliver's lap and her laptop in her own, while Oliver watched TV.

"I hate it when it storms. The TV never comes in." Oliver complained.

"Do you think the power's gonna go out?" Miley asked him, as a particularly loud clap of thunder rang through the air.

"Maybe." He said, looking out the window since a small blue box on the bottom of the TV screen was now telling him that he wasn't going to be watching TV until the storm stopped. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get plane tickets to Tennessee."

"Why?" Oliver asked, confused. "I didn't know you wanted to go back there."

"I didn't think so either. But seeing my family today...I haven't seen them in so long. And it's way easier for me to go see them than the other way around."

"...When are you going?"

"I don't know. When do you want to go?"

"Me?"

"Yes you. I can't just leave you here, can I?"

"You want me to go with you?" Oliver asked her, surprised.

"What, you don't want to go?" Miley replied, looking up into his face, frowning.

"I do. I just didn't think you'd want to take me."

"I wouldn't want to go without you." She assured him. Thunder rang through the apartment again, and they were both silent for a minute.

"I don't care when we go." Oliver told her.

"Okay. How about the end of June?"

"June's perfect." He answered, as the TV came back on. Oliver turned his attention back to the episode of CSI he'd been watching.

"Aww man! I didn't get to find out who killed the guy!" He complained, when the episode faded into the next one.

"I've already seen that one. It was his sister-in-law." Miley commented without looking up from her computer screen.

"Oh. I _knew_ it!" Miley laughed at his excitement and closed her laptop.

"We're leaving June 23rd."

"We don't have to wake up at like 3 in the morning, do we?"

"No. You don't have to worry about not getting all your beauty sleep." Miley teased him. "We leave at noon."

"Good." Oliver replied, yawning.

"It's late." Miley stated the obvious.

"It is." Oliver agreed.

"We should go to bed."

"We should."

Just then, an exceptionally large flash of lightning lit up the whole room and killed the electricity.

"Do you know where a flashlight is?" Miley asked.

"No. I know where your cellphone is though." He slid his hand underneath her and into her back pocket, where she kept her phone. He pulled it out and flipped it open, shining the light in her face.

"Hey, give me that. I have a text." She snatched the phone from his hand and hit a couple buttons, before closing it. "Go find a flashlight." She ordered.

"Why? I thought we were going to bed."

"I can't brush my teeth in the dark."

"Then don't brush your teeth."

"I have to." She got up and used her phone to look through the kitchen cabinets for a flashlight. When she finally found one that worked, Miley used it to light her path to the bathroom.

Oliver followed her into the bathroom, swished some mouthwash around, thinking that was good enough, and walked slowly toward his bedroom, making sure not to trip. He climbed into bed and closed his eyes, finding it just as dark behind his eyelids as outside of them.

Moments later, Oliver's bedroom door opened and Miley's footsteps echoed quietly through the room. He heard her set the flashlight down on the night stand and felt the bed move as she climbed in next to him. He knew if he were to ask, she'd tell him she was only sleeping in his bed because of the storm, but they both knew better. Besides, it felt right, and who was he to mess with that?

_**Hmm. This was not the greatest chapter, but it was pretty much just a filler. A long one. But hopefully it was decent, for what it was. Tell me what you thiiiink.**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Sorry this chapter took so long. It was a combination of having no motivation and being a perfectionist. Today (July 21st) is No Ifs Ands Or Maybes' birthday, and since she's one of my best friends - and also because I can't get her anything better than this - I've dedicated this chapter to her. Happy Birthday! You better appreciate this. **_**=)**

Miley knew he was staring at her. She could feel his eyes on her face, even though her own were still closed. He probably knew she was awake. The slight smile on her face was giving her away, most likely. She could almost imagine the expression on his face. He was probably smiling. Just a little smile, but she was sure there was one.

"Oliver stop staring at me." She told him, and then she opened her eyes. She was right. He had that tiny little smile plastered on his face like he was remembering a good joke. He blinked and said,

"You know, that takes talent."

"I must have stolen it from you, then." He rolled his eyes and sat up in bed, with one of his knees touching Miley's leg.

"What? You have more talent than me and you know it."

"What if I don't know it?" Oliver asked her, turning his body toward her.

"You do." She insisted, staring down at the blanket covering her while she played with a loose thread.

"Are we really gonna do this again?"

"Do what?" Miley asked, although she knew perfectly well what he was talking about.

"Seriously? Miles I don't want to have to convince you every day of how talented you are."

"Then don't." She suggested, sitting up. She threw the blankets off of her, down to the end of the bed, and swung her legs off of the mattress. Oliver sighed loudly and got out of bed too, following her out of the room.

"Don't look at me like that." Miley said with her back to him.

"Look at you like what? How do you know I'm even giving you a look? You're not even looking at _me_!"

"You're looking at me like you wish I'd just get over it and be happy already." She turned around and raised her voice. "Well you know what? It's not that easy. I want to be happy, believe me, I do, but I just can't, okay?"

"So I don't make you happy?" Oliver asked, the tone of his voice giving away how hurt he was. Miley frowned and stepped forward. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered into his chest,

"You make me as happy as I can be." Oliver held her close to him, saying nothing. "I'm sorry." Miley apologized. "I've been forgetting to take my pill. I...I didn't mean anything I said. I know that's not really much of an excuse, but it's all I have."

"It's okay." Oliver assured her, kissing the top of her head.

"I like it when you do that." She told him, a tiny smile appearing.

"What? This?" He pressed his lips to her crown again.

"Yes. That." He kissed the part in her hair over and over, and said,

"You know, I like this better." And he kissed her lips instead.

"That's pretty nice too." Miley told him, smiling before she kissed him back.

"Are we having a kissing war?"

"Only if you want to." Oliver replied. He attacked her lips once more and said, "Got you." Miley forced her mouth against his and thirty seconds had to have passed before she pulled away.

"Bang, you're dead."

"If I was dead, could I do this?" He lifted her up off the ground and she squealed, wrapping her legs around him. She kissed him again, harder than usual, and when he set her down on the kitchen counter, she said,

"I don't know, but I like it." She looked down at him from her seat on the counter top, and her smile suddenly disappeared.

"What?" Oliver asked warily.

"We have to tell my dad today."

"And...that's bad?"

"My dad's a protective psycho. It's only a matter of time before he cracks and throws my boyfriend into a pool of hungry sharks." The serious expression on her face was almost scary.

"That would be...painful. I'll try not to smell like blood, then."

"But then again it could go well. My dad's known you for a long time."

"That's true." Oliver said, praying that that would be how it would go down.

"But it's more likely that he'll run the dishwasher with you inside it."

"...I'm scared now." Miley grinned and jumped off the counter.

"Good! Now get ready, we're leaving." A panicked expression appeared on Oliver's face.

"Now? We can't go tomorrow? Or never?"

...

"So..." Miley mumbled, awkwardly crossing and uncrossing her legs as she sat on the couch opposite from her father in the living room.

"What's wrong?" Robby Ray asked, eyeing Oliver, who was sitting next to his daughter looking like he was about to wet his pants. "You pregnant? Married? Do you have AIDs?"

"_What? _No!"

"Then why do you two look like you think Bigfoot's about to eat you?" He asked, leaning forward in his recliner.

"I...uhhh...Dad...Oliver and I...we're..."

"Dating?" Miley looked surprised when he finished her sentence. "Already knew that."

"...How?" Miley asked him, wanting very badly to know the answer to that question.

"Jackson told me." Robby Ray explained, leaning back and making himself comfortable.

"How did _Jackson_ know?" Miley asked, confused.

"...Do you really want to ask that question?" Miley glanced at Oliver and back at her father.

"I guess not..." Oliver let out a breath that he seemed to have been holding for quite some time now. "So...you're not gonna go all "Nobody's good enough for my daughter." on us or anything?" Mr. Stewart simply shook his head. "No dirty looks?"

"Nope."

"No following him around the room staring just to make him uncomfortable?"

"Why would I do that?"

"You did it with my last boyfriend..."

"And look at what a jerk he turned out to be! You're lucky you have a father with a gift like that."

"Yeah...every girl wants her dad to screen her boyfriends like phone calls from telemarketers..." Robby Ray smiled, looking like he was in on some great big joke that they weren't aware of.

"So...you don't...care?"

"Nope. I'm glad you two are together." He said, nodding toward Oliver. "I already know where Oliver lives. And I know his mother."

"_Okay_..." Miley drug out the two syllables, doing nothing to make the awkward silence any less awkward. "Well...thanksforapprovinggottagobye!" She yanked Oliver off of the couch and pulled him through the door before anybody - especially her father - could say another word.

"...That...was...terrifying." Oliver confessed as he climbed into the passenger seat of Miley's car, shivering like he'd just been freed from a giant ice cube like a woolly mammoth.

"I'm sorry." Miley apologized, trying not to laugh at him.

"Do you think he really meant that?"

"Yeah. He probably _was _trying to scare you. But if he wasn't happy with us dating he would've found a much more obvious way to say that." She assured him.

"Oh...good."

Miley took out her keys and started to put them in the ignition. She stopped before she could do that, and turned to face Oliver.

"Could you stop shaking? I haven't even started the engine and the car's already vibrating." Oliver stopped shaking and apologized, as she turned the key in the ignition. He rolled down the window and breathed deeply as she drove away from the house.

"Oliver, save some for the rest of us." Miley joked, glancing at him as she drove the car down the highway. "What are you so nervous about?"

"...What if your dad kills me? I don't wanna die!" He shrieked, clenching Miley's right arm. She shook him off and said,

"Don't give him a reason to kill you, and you won't." Needless to say, Miley's advice didn't exactly help.

...

"What are you so happy about?" Lilly asked Miley, holding up her hand to shield her face from the glaring sun.

"...What's wrong with being happy?" Miley asked cautiously. She used one hand to pull her damp hair off her shoulders while she used the other to take a drink of her soda.

"Nothing. But compared to how weird you _were _acting the last time we were together..." Lilly picked a menu up off the table they were sitting at on the back patio of a beach side cafe and flipped it open.

"I was fine Lilly. And I still am." Miley assured her, holding up her own menu. She scanned the sandwich section, sighed, and set it back down, to see Lilly staring at her over the top of her own menu, just as she'd expected. "Are you gonna annoy me until I tell you, again?"

"Unless there's an easier way to get it out of you." Lilly grinned, folding her menu and setting it back down on the table.

"Fine. I"mdatingOliver." She mumbled.

"You know, whenyoutalkfastsoIcan'tunderstandyou...I can still understand you." Miley smiled nervously and said,

"It was worth a shot."

"So you finally told him?" Lilly asked, nonchalantly picking up her menu again, like Miley hadn't just told her she was dating her ex.

"Told him what?"

"That you wanna screw his brains out." Lilly said quietly, looking up with a serious expression on her face.

"I never said I wanted to _"screw his brains out,"_ Lilly." Miley said, using air quotes after a moment of awkward silence. A smile burst onto Lilly's face and she started laughing hysterically.

"You...should've seen...your face!" She told Miley, letting out a word every time she stopped laughing long enough to breathe.

"Do you ladies need some more time, or are you ready to order?" A waiter asked them, appearing at the end of their table. They both placed their orders and gave the waiter their menus. Miley was grateful for his appearance and used the distraction to change the subject.

"I'm going back to Tennesse next month." She blurted out.

"You are? Really?" She grinned and asked, "Is Oliver going with you?"

"Maybe..." Miley mumbled apprehensively, as she fixed her bikini and pulled on the front of her cover-up. The giant smile didn't leave Lilly's face.

"Well if you meet a cute cowboy this time, you can send him back here for me." Miley gave her a small smile and nodded in response. Lilly knew better than to stay on that subject, so she asked Miley about Oliver. She seemed to have a whole lot more that she was actually willing to talk about when it came to this topic, and she talked of nothing but him all through their meal, without noticing the knowing smile on Lilly's face.

...

"Oliver! I told you to finish packing yesterday! What's taking so long?" Miley called through Oliver's bedroom door as she pounded on it mercilessly.

"I didn't think you were serious!"

"Why wouldn't I be serious? We're supposed to be leaving right now, and you woke up two minutes ago. How does that give you any time to finish now?" The door opened and Oliver carried his suitcase through the doorway, glaring at Miley. "Happy?" He asked.

"No! That shirt is ugly and we're gonna be really late." She responded, pulling him out the door by one of his belt loops.

"I could change it-" Oliver started to suggest.

"No you couldn't, we have to go _now._" She exclaimed, forcing him into the elevator. They were both quiet all the way to the bottom, due to Miley's irritableness, until the doors opened, letting them out of the elevator.

"You know, you're not a very pleasant person in the morning." Oliver pointed out as he stepped into the lobby of the building.

"If you don't walk faster I'm going to be unpleasant _all _the time."

...

Miley and Oliver sunk down into their seats at gate B14 half an hour before they were supposed to board the plane. Miley let out a relieved sigh and set her purse in her lap. She opened it up and pulled out some lip gloss, which she then began applying.

"See? I told you we'd get here on time." Oliver said with a triumphant grin on his face. Miley put the cap back on her lip gloss, rubbed her lips together, and said without looking Oliver's direction,

"We're only here on time because I went 20 miles over the speed limit, almost hit a puppy, two cats, and a small child." She glanced at him, smiled sweetly and added, "I was planning on blaming you if I got pulled over."

"Wow, _thanks_..." Oliver leaned back in his chair and yawned, watching the people that were walking down the hallway between them and the odd numbered gates on the opposite side. He noticed a large amount of men looking in his direction, and reverted his gaze back to Miley. "What are you wearing?" He asked, finally noticing the particularly low cut shirt she'd been wearing underneath her jacket.

"What, this?" She asked, looking down. Oliver nodded slowly, raising an eyebrow. "It's my Get Out Of Speeding Tickets Shirt..."

"How does that get you out of speeding tickets?" Miley laughed and explained,

"How many times have you been pulled over by a female cop for speeding?"

"Never..." Oliver replied, wondering where exactly she was going with this.

"Exactly." Miley said, smirking.

"So...you show cops your boobs to get out of speeding tickets?"

"Pretty much."

"I should be a cop..." Oliver decided out loud. Miley laughed and slapped him lightly on the chest. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, and sighed loudly.

"Hey, wanna go get me some food?" She asked after a couple minutes of silence, nudging him with her elbow.

"No."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"_Come on!_" She whined.

"_I don't want to_!" Oliver responded, copying the tone of her voice. He was about two seconds away from giving in, but he pretended otherwise.

"You _do _want to. I'll go with you!"

"_Fine._" Oliver gave in and stood up resentfully, holding out a hand for Miley and aiming his glaring facial expression her way. She just smiled and grasped his hand, pulling herself up out of her chair.

"I think I saw a Starbucks that way." She told him, nodding to the right.

"And I saw a McDonald's this way." He responded, pulling her to the left.

"Oh come on, you just had McDonald's yesterday!" Miley whined, trying to pull him back the opposite direction, but failing miserably.

"That doesn't mean its not still good today." Miley rolled her eyes and unwillingly stopped resisting.

Oliver came away with a bag full of food, while Miley only had some french fries and a drink. They returned to their seats at the gate, which was still nearly empty, and sat back down.

"I hope you can finish that before we start boarding." Miley said, forcing an exceptionally long french fry into her mouth.

"Of course I can." Oliver said with his mouth full. He swallowed and shoved the last chunk of his burger into his mouth. "There. I'm done. And look who's still eating." He smiled at her and plucked a fry out of the container she was holding.

"Hey! That's mine! You already had some." He continued to smile at her, and took another one. "You better watch it. I'm not afraid to poke your eye out." She warned him, chucking a particularly burnt french fry that she wasn't planning on eating at his face.

Miley grabbed a large amount of fries and forced them all into her mouth, finishing them before Oliver could steal another one, just as a woman announced that they were starting to board the plane. She made Oliver throw away their garbage while she dug their boarding passes out of her purse.

As usual, it took the passengers forever to board the plane. Some of them took their sweet time finding their seats and putting their bags into the overhead bin, while others had a hard time squeezing into their seats. There were people that were even having full blown conversations in the aisle.

Miley sank into the window seat and stared out the window at the dark clouds moving toward them, while Oliver placed her carry-on in the overhead compartment. He sat down in the seat next to her and said,

"I don't think this is gonna be a fun flight..."

"It looks like its gonna storm." She agreed, moving her eyes from the storm clouds outside to Oliver's face. There was a thump, and an unhappy expression crossed Oliver's face.

"Great." He muttered, as he endured the child behind him kicking his seat once again. Miley unbuckled her seat belt, turned around, and leaned over the back of the seat.

"Excuse me," She said politely, "But could you please keep your child from kicking the seat? My friend has back problems and is already in a lot of pain." Oliver heard a woman's voice apologizing, and the kicking stopped.

"Back problems?" Oliver questioned when she turned back around.

"It always worked before." She smiled at him and removed her purse from underneath the seat in front of her. She took out her cell phone and shut it off, just as a flight attendant appeared next to them.

"Are you willing and able?" She asked, looking at Oliver with a flirty expression on her face.

"...Willing and able to do what?" He asked nervously, glancing at Miley and returning his gaze to the flight attendant.

"You're sitting by the emergency exit. Are you willing and able to help the other passengers in the case of an emergency?"

"Yeah, sure." Oliver consented.

"Good. I thought you looked _strong._" The flight attendant said, putting emphasis on the last word.

"Thank...you?" When Oliver turned back to Miley, he caught the expression on her face. "I didn't like that at _all._.." He assured her.

"Yeah, sure."

"I just want you, baby." He said, grinning at her.

"Shut up." She muttered, trying not to smile as she turned away to look out the window once more.

...

A couple of hours into the flight, the storm caught up to them. Since the aisle seat was empty, Oliver had moved into that one, letting Miley lay across the two inner seats and rest her head on his lap. Her bent knees nearly blocked his view of the window, but he could see the raindrops splattering against the window. It was getting dark outside, much too soon. The seat belt light came on with a ding, and the pilot's voice filled the plane, waking Miley, who'd been sleeping for the past hour.

"I've got some good news and some bad news." He said. "The good news? I just saved a ton of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico." A couple of people in the cabin laughed. "The bad news? We're experiencing some rough turbulence. We're gonna try to get above the storm, but please stay in your seats with your seat belt fastened until the seat belt sign is turned off."

Miley groaned and sat up, fastening her seat belt and leaning against Oliver again.

"How long was I asleep?"

"About an hour." He answered, yawning.

"It's your turn now." Miley joked, smiling slightly. The plane shook before he could answer, and Miley reflexively grabbed his hand.

"How many times have you been on a plane?" Oliver asked, squeezing her hand gently.

"I don't know, five hundred times." Miley answered.

"As yourself."

"Like, four hundred ninety times." Oliver raised an eyebrow. "It's much easier to get through airports if you're not a world famous pop star, Oliver."

"That's true..." He mumbled.

"The last time I was on a plane...I was coming home from Paris. The day I saw you for the first time in months." She paused, and leaned against him. Oliver could feel her mouth moving against his shoulder as she spoke. "I don't know if you were different, or if _I _was different...but I knew."

"Knew what?" He asked

"That we had to be together. That's why I offered to let you stay in my apartment." She explained.

"Ohh, so you let me sleep on your couch so you could get in my pants?" He joked. The plane trembled but Miley didn't seem to notice this time.

"No. I think you accepted so you could get into mine." Miley told him, laughing. She reached up and kissed him before resting her head on his shoulder once more.

"That might be true." He chuckled, lowering his head to kiss her.

The plane rose a little more, rattled once again, and leveled out.

"Are you worried, at all?" Oliver asked Miley.

"About going home?"

"Yeah. A little. I haven't seen my family in a long time. What if they hate me for not coming sooner?" She asked. Her face had taken on a more somber expression.

"How could your family hate you?" Miley raised an eyebrow, lowered it, and said,

"I don't know. Ask Luann."

"Oh...I forgot about her. She's got a problem though. I'm sure you didn't do anything." Oliver assured her.

"Maybe I did." Miley stared blankly across the aisle for a moment, and then asked, "Did you actually like her when you first met her?"

"Not her personality. She was annoying. And _violent_... She looked just like you though."

"Luann does _not _look like me." Miley insisted.

"Whatever you say." He paused. "You _are_ much prettier though."

"You think I'm pretty?" She asked. Her voice had little expression in it, and she was still staring blankly across the aisle.

"Miles, you _know _I think you're beautiful. And it's not just me. You _are _beautiful." He snaked his hand behind her head and pressed his lips to hers, giving her a long, deep kiss. Her hand slid up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

The seconds ticked by, and he was just about to pull away, when a woman cleared her throat behind them.

"Excuse me." The flight attendant from earlier said, "Can you two please save that for when we land? You're traumatizing the children." She waved her hand toward three small children with eyes the size of dinner plates, sitting in the seats to the left of the aisle.

"Sorry..." Miley muttered, trying not to laugh. Oliver smiled at the children, who still looked disgusted, and turned to Miley.

"Wanna scar them for life?" He asked her, still grinning.

"Uhh, no thank you. Waiting is the least we could do for our dear flirtatious flight attendant."

...

When the plane finally landed, several hours later, Miley and Oliver grabbed their bags and squeezed through the aisle, pushing other passengers out of their way in the process of trying to get off the plane and out of the airport as fast as they could.

"We're free!!" Oliver shouted, dropping his bags on the pavement outside the airport and waving his arms in the air.

"Finally, I can see the sky!" Miley exclaimed, grabbing Oliver's hand as she said it.

"You can see the sky in Malibu too." Oliver pointed out

"Oliver, the sky's supposed to be blue. Like this." She nodded toward the sky.

"Yeah, it's definitely not that color back home..." Miley smiled and reached into her purse, for her cell phone. She turned it on, checked the time, and chucked it back into her purse.

"Looks like our plane's a little early." She commented.

"The pilot said that when we were getting off." Oliver said.

"Yeah, well I was focusing more on shoving people out of my way without stepping on their feet than the pilot's announcements." Miley said, sitting down while she waited for her grandmother to arrive. Oliver joined her and shoved his suitcases underneath the stone bench.

Miley leaned up against Oliver, and he pulled her into his lap. Her head rested on his shoulder, and neither of them said a word, until Oliver kissed her, hard. Miley squirmed in his lap, turning to face him. She pressed her chest against his and stretched upward, deepening the kiss. She pulled away and relaxed, laying against him.

"Oh come on, nobody's making you stare!" Oliver suddenly shouted. Miley turned to see the same three children that were on the plane, staring at them from several yards away. Miley laughed and sat up straight, grabbing Oliver's hand.

"Come on, my grandma's here." She grabbed her purse and her suitcase, leaving Oliver with the other two suitcases, and stopped by the sidewalk as a blue truck pulled up. Miley put her large suitcase in the back and opened the door. She climbed into the smaller middle seat, beside her grandma, and Oliver took the passenger's side, grateful that this didn't have to be an awkward ride to Miley's grandmother's house.

Oliver didn't speak more than two words the entire time. Miley and her grandmother kept up a conversation, and the only conversing that happened between Miley and Oliver was done with their hands, laying together between them.

When they finally arrived at the farm, an hour later, Oliver was happy to get out of the truck. It was dark outside now, but the bright porch lights were on, along with some of the lights inside, illuminating the front yard. Miley's grandmother took the smaller suit case inside, and led Miley and Oliver inside, up to a bedroom at the top of the stairs.

"So where do you want Oliver to sleep?" Miley asked, setting her purse on the bed and turning to face her grandmother.

"Oh sweetie, none of us are under the impression you two don't sleep in the same bed." Her Grandma said, smiling sweetly.

"Actually we-"

"Once you're all settled, I've got pie downstairs! I'm sure you're hungry." Ruby interrupted. "Those little packets of peanuts are pathetic. Wouldn't fill a fly." She muttered to herself as she left the room.

"PIE?" Oliver exclaimed, throwing his suitcase on the floor. "I'm ready!"

"Hold on. I have to put some stuff away!" Miley said, pulling a small bag out of her larger suitcase.

"This is gonna take forever!"

"Oliver. There's gonna be plenty of pie. Just wait a stinkin' second." Miley took the bag across the hall to the bathroom, where she took out her toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, shampoo and conditioner and set them on the counter, next to a pile of wash clothes Ruby must've taken out for them. Miley set the bag down next to her toothbrush and it made a rattling noise, suggesting it held one more item inside of it.

"Okay. _Now _it's pie time." Oliver was at the bottom of the stairs before Miley could even blink.

...

"That was the best pie I've ever had in my life." Oliver complemented Ruby, setting his fork down and using his finger to wipe up the last of it.

"Aww, thank you." She turned to Miley and held her hand up to her mouth like it would stop him from hearing her say "This one's a keeper." Miley grinned and said,

"Oliver's right, that was some _really _good pie."

"Next time we go to the market, you'll have to thank the lady at the pie stand, then." Ruby said, laughing.

"We should probably get to bed." Miley said, faking a dramatic yawn. "Long flight. Don't wanna sleep the day away." She explained.

"Okay." Ruby said, standing up to clear their plates. "Sleep well." She placed the plates in the sink as Miley and Oliver reached the stairs. "And don't be too loud. My room's right below yours." Miley gave Oliver a horrified expression and called back "Goodnight Nana!"

Miley yawned loudly as she bent over her suitcase and dug through it for her pajamas. They were near the bottom, so by the time she'd pulled them out, Oliver had changed into his, which consisted of the boxers he'd already been wearing. He got slapped in the face with a tank top after he smacked her behind on his way to the bed.

"Ow!" He yelled, climbing onto the bed.

"Didn't hurt."

"You always say that." He pointed out.

"Yeah, well you always say ow when it didn't hurt."

"It did hurt." He insisted, pulling the sheets up so that they rested at his waist.

Miley pulled her shirt off and grabbed her tank top off of the top of her suitcase, catching the look on Oliver's face as she started to put it on.

"What?" She asked, her hands, along with the tank top, dropping down to her sides.

"Nothing..."

"Would you rather I change in the bathroom?" She asked, trying to put her tank top on for the second time.

"Oh _definitely_ not." Miley chucked the shirt she'd been wearing at his face, and slipped off her shorts, exchanging them with a pair of cotton ones. She turned off the light and climbed into bed next to Oliver. He was quiet for a second, before he moved closer and asked her,

"Do you always sleep in your bra?" Her hand found his face and shoved it away in the dark.

"No. Just around you. I can't trust you"

"Why not?" He asked her. Miley answered with a laugh, turned onto her side, with her back to him, and said,

"Goodnight Oliver."

...

"Why is it so loud?" Oliver asked, annoyed.

"I don't know. Rupert's evil." Miley muttered, pulling her pillow over her head.

"It has a name?"

"It's a rooster Oliver. Of course he has a name."

"Is it ever gonna stop?" Oliver complained, sticking his head beneath his own pillow.

"When he gets his breakfast." Miley answered, yawning.

"Can't he just eat one of the chickens?" Oliver asked, irritated.

"I think that would be considered cannibalism." She said, as the rooster finally stopped crowing.

They laid in silence for a while, before Oliver said,

"I can't sleep now."

"Me neither." Miley replied, laughing. She tossed her pillow down to the end of the bed and used Oliver's chest to rest her head on instead. She gently ran her fingers up and down his stomach, and said,

"I'm glad you don't work out. You're soft." She said, sighing. Oliver definitely couldn't agree with her.

He wrapped his arm around her, his hand resting on her ribs.

"Tickle me and I'll kill you." Miley threatened him, sitting up. He ignored her warning, pulled her back down, and started tickling her. "Oliver!" She shouted, laughing. "Stop it!" He started tickling her stomach, and she squealed. Trying to get out of his grasp proved to be pointless, so Miley rolled over on top of him and smashed her lips against his. His hands immediately moved up to her neck, making Miley's mission a success. She slowly moved her lips down, kissing his chin, his neck, his chest, his stomach. Her lips gently touched the skin just above the elastic on his boxers, and then she disappeared, having reached the end of the bed, where she could jump off.

Oliver's fist pounded the mattress and he sat up.

"You seriously need to stop doing that. It's not funny."

"Oh come on, you know it was a _little bit_ funny." She said, grinning. She unzipped her suitcase and pulled out a pair of jeans and another tank top.

"Jeans?" Oliver asked, as he was over what Miley'd just done, for the time being. "It's like 90 degrees outside."

"And we're going riding today." She said, smiling at him.

"Riding?"

"Horseback riding."

"I can't go horseback riding. I've never even touched a horse before." He complained.

"Which is why you'll be riding behind me. Don't worry." She told him, as she switched tank tops. "You'll be fine."

"And if I die?"

"You won't." She assured him, pulling off her shorts.

"But what if I do?"

"I'll buy some real nice flowers for your funeral." Miley offered, smiling as she yanked her jeans up. She zipped them up and leaned over Oliver, resting her hands on the mattress next to him.

"You'll be fine." She repeated. "It'll be fun."

"If I don't have fun, I'm blaming you."

"If you don't have fun, you can punish me for it later." She told him, grinning. Miley stood up and exited the room, closing the bathroom door behind her and leaving Oliver to think about what she'd just said.

...

"It's _huge_!" Oliver exclaimed when he saw the horse.

"No_ he's_ not! Blue Jeans is actually an average size, for your information. He's just a little old man, so you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm worried anyway." Oliver said, standing several feet away as Miley tied her horse up in the barn.

"Come here." She ordered him. Oliver didn't move, so she yanked on his arm and pulled him into place next to her. "Pet him." She demanded.

"What if he bites me?"

"He's not gonna bite you." She insisted, rolling her eyes and grabbing a hold of Oliver's wrist. She set his hand on Blue Jeans' neck and forced Oliver to stroke it. "See? He wouldn't hurt a fly." Blue Jeans swung his head around to bite at a fly that had landed on his leg.

"No, but he just ate one." Miley laughed and reached into a tool box sitting on a stool next to her, pulling out a brush. She handed it to Oliver and said,

"You can brush him."

"No I can't!" Miley snickered and said,

"I can't believe you're afraid of him."

"I'm not afraid of him!" Oliver argued, stepping closer. He gently ran the brush down Blue Jeans' back, and gave Miley a told-you-so look. Blue Jeans poked Oliver in the stomach with his nose and snorted in Oliver's face. Oliver immediately jumped back, dropping the brush in the dirt.

Miley laughed at him and picked up the brush.

"Okay, maybe I am..."

"That means he likes you. He's just trying to play." She explained, placing the brush in his hand. "Try again. I promise he won't hurt you."

Oliver reluctantly started to brush the big white horse again, with Blue Jeans staring at him the whole time. He finished without the horse touching him again, and told Miley he was done, as she came up beside him holding the saddle.

"Here, hold this." She said, passing the saddle off on him in exchange for the brush. Oliver nearly dropped it, it was so heavy.

"Holy shit this thing is heavy!" Oliver exclaimed loudly. Miley laughed as she brushed underneath Blue Jeans' stomach, making sure Oliver'd done it well enough.

"Well yeah, it weighs like thirty pounds." She explained, setting the brush back in the tool box. She picked up a blanket and shook the dirt off it, before setting it on Blue Jeans' back. She straightened the blanket and took the saddle from Oliver, heaving it up onto Blue Jeans' back like it weighed nothing. She looped a stirrup over the horn of the saddle and reached underneath the horse to grab a long strap.

"How do you still know how to do this?" Oliver asked her, as he watched her saddle Blue Jeans.

"It's just kind of something you don't forget." She shrugged and pulled on the strap, tightening it. "Okay..." She muttered to herself and walked away, disappearing into another room. She came out holding a conglomeration of metal and leather, and gave it to Oliver while she unbuckled Blue Jeans' halter and re-buckled it around his neck like a dog's collar. She took the bridle back from Oliver and stuck her thumb into Blue Jeans mouth so that she could get the bit in. Miley pulled Blue Jean's ears underneath a strap and buckled the last one beneath his jaw, before turning around to face Oliver.

"Okay, we're ready!"

"I'm not..." He said nervously.

"Yes you are. Come on." She unbuckled Blue Jeans' halter again and let it hang on the rope. She stuck her foot in stirrup and pulled herself up. "Your turn." She said, smiling. "Just put your left foot in there and grab my hand." She told him, pulling her foot out of the stirrup. Oliver swallowed hard and followed her instructions. He put his foot in the stirrup and grabbed Miley's hand. She pulled him up and he settled himself behind the saddle, on the part of the blanket that stuck out behind it.

"Ready?" Miley asked him, turning around to see the look on his face.

"No." He said, terrified. Miley made a clicking noise with her tongue, and Blue Jeans took a step forward. Oliver immediately wrapped his arms around Miley's waist at that second. She laughed but kept on moving out of the barn and into the sun.

"This is scary." Oliver said, as they disappeared into the trees at the edge of the lawn.

"We're just walking Oliver. It's gonna get worse." Miley said, trying to scare him.

"_What_?" Oliver squeaked. Miley kicked Blue Jeans' sides hard, and the horse took off, nearly causing Oliver to have a heart attack. He couldn't say a word, and screamed the entire time, while Miley just laughed at him.

The slowed down alongside a fence separating the trees and a field, and Oliver finally stopped yelling.

"I hate you." He said angrily, loosening his grip on Miley's waist slightly.

"No you don't." She replied, as they slowly walked down the path. Blue Jeans tripped over a root and Oliver tightened his grip on Miley again.

"I do too." He muttered.

"Do you hate me too much to go swimming? She asked him as the path widened and the worn down dirt began to disappear. The trail was now marked only by flattened grass, as they rounded a corner and left the fence.

"Swimming?" Oliver asked, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah." Miley said, leaving the path and steering Blue Jeans through the long grass. "Swimming." The grass thinned out as they came upon a small body of water, surrounded in sand and wet dirt.

Blue Jeans came to a stop, and Miley flipped her right leg over his head so that she could jump down. She dropped the reins and helped Oliver down. He sat down in the grass, relieved, breathing hard, as Miley took off Blue Jeans' Bridle and looped it over a tree branch. She took off the saddle too, setting it down on the ground with the blanket over top of it.

"Isn't he gonna run away?" Oliver asked Miley as Blue Jeans wandered off toward the grass at the edge of the clearing.

"No, he just wants to eat." Miley told Oliver, stepping toward the water. "Turn around." She ordered him.

"Why?" She started to pull her shirt over her head, giving Oliver his explanation.

As much as he wanted to sneak a peak, Oliver waited until he heard a splash to turn around.

"Your turn." Miley told him, treading water in the center of the pond. Her clothes hung from a tree branch on the higher side, where she'd jumped in.

Oliver stripped out of his clothes and jumped in. He didn't care if Miley saw him, but she'd turned her back anyway.

"It's cold." He said, swimming toward her.

"It is." She said, glancing toward her horse, who was still chowing down on the long grass where they'd left him.

"I've never gone skinny dipping before." Oliver confessed.

"I have." Miley said, smiling.

"Well you've done everything I haven't." Oliver said. Miley's smile disappeared, and Oliver knew exactly what she was thinking about. He reached out for her and wrapped one arm around her wet, slippery back, underneath the murky water. He pulled her closer, using his other arm to keep himself afloat, and gently kissed her. She kissed him back, using both hands to keep her from sinking.

Oliver's hand slowly crept down, and Miley reached back and grabbed it, pulling it back up to the surface.

"Not in here. I don't need fish watching me."

...

Miley wrung her hair out in the trees, grabbed her shirt, and used it to dry off the rest of her body. She shook it, trying to dry it as much as she could, and put it back on the tree branch she'd previously left it on. She pulled her underwear and bra on, grabbed her jeans and her shirt and took them with her, since she was still slightly damp, and went back out to the clearing to re-saddle her horse.

"Nobody told me we were going back without our clothes on." Oliver commented, stepping up behind her as she replaced the blanket on Blue Jeans' back.

"We're not. So enjoy it while you can." She said, turning around to kiss him.

"Are you opposed to having horses watch you?" He whispered in her ear.

"I'm opposed to having anybody watch me." She whispered back. "Sorry."

"Its okay." He told her. "Would've been weird anyway."

"It would have." She agreed, picking up the saddle and lifting it back up onto the horse's back.

Once Blue Jeans was saddled and had his bridle back on, Miley pulled her jeans back on, along with her wet shirt, and climbed back onto her horse's back, helping Oliver just as she had before. They rode back more slowly this time, taking their time to dry.

"I hope your grandma has lunch ready when we get back."

"Is food all you ever think about?" Miley asked him, kicking Blue Jeans lightly so he'd walk faster.

"Food and you." Oliver answered.

"You're so full of crap."

"It's _mostly _true."

"I'm sure it is." Miley said sarcastically, smiling as they came out of the trees. Blue Jeans started for the barn without much help from Miley, so she turned around, holding the reins loosely, and kissed Oliver on the lips. "I think about you a lot too." She told him.

"I know. You kept saying my name in your sleep last night."

"I did? What did I say?" She asked.

"Things I don't feel comfortable repeating." Oliver told her, as Blue Jeans stopped right in front of his halter.

"You're lying." Miley decided.

"Is that food I smell?" Oliver asked, taking off for the house, leaving Miley alone to unsaddle her horse.

By the time Miley put her horse back in the pasture and made her way back up to the house, Oliver had eaten three grilled cheese sandwiches, and was currently working on a bowl of fruit.

"Sure eats a lot, this one." Miley's grandma said when Miley entered the kitchen.

"Oh, I know." Miley said, taking a plate from her grandmother and sitting down next to Oliver.

"Did you have fun?"

"Yeah. It's been too long. I don't know about Oliver though. He was scared to death at first." Miley answered, laughing. Oliver glared at her and tossed a grape at her face. It fell to the table and rolled into her lap, where he snatched it and popped it into his mouth.

"I invited a couple people over for dinner." Ruby announced as she turned on the water and started washing her dishes. "I'm gonna need a little help getting it ready, if you don't mind, Miley."

"Yeah, sure. I don't have anything else to do anyway." Miley said, taking another bite from her sandwich.

"Well when you're done eating, if you could peel the potatoes, it'd be a lot of help." Ruby said, pointing toward a bag of potatoes sitting on the counter next to the sink.

"Okay." Miley stole a grape from Oliver's bowl and shoved it into her mouth using her index finger.

She stood up, stealing another handful of fruit, and threw her paper plate away. She finished her fruit and opened a drawer next to the sink to find the potato peeler.

Miley pulled two large potatoes out of the bag and held them both in one hand.

"You can go watch TV if you want, Ollie." She said, glancing back at her boyfriend. Oliver mumbled a response with his mouth full and Miley turned back to her potatoes, to see her Grandma giving her an odd look.

"What?"

...

"Miley sweetie, can you go get the soda from the garage?" Ruby asked Miley, as she set the table.

Oliver followed Miley out to the garage, where Ruby's second refrigerator was. Miley opened the door and pulled out two 24 packs of Coke, leaving the third one for Oliver.

Setting his box down on the floor, Oliver leaned in and gave Miley a deep kiss.

"What's that for?" She asked, dropping hers on the floor so that her hands were free.

"To calm your nerves. You're shaking." He answered, kissing her again.

"Yeah, I guess I'm a little anxious." Miley said, laughing nervously.

"It'll be fine. They're your family. They've got to know you can't come out here all the time."

"I could, though. I did, before." Miley told him, picking her soda up again. "You don't know how it is. We're all about family here. We used to spend every day together. They weren't that understanding when we moved to Malibu, so they probably aren't too happy that I haven't been out here in four years."

"They'll get over it." Oliver assured her, picking up his box again.

"I hope you're right."

"I'm always right." Miley raised an eyebrow, and Oliver corrected himself. "Okay, I'm never right. But this time I think I am." Miley smiled, kissed him one last time, and headed back to the house.

Miley stopped in her tracks when they arrived at the doorway into the kitchen, and Oliver nearly ran her over.

"Travis!" Ruby greeted excitedly. "You came early!"

Oliver snorted loudly and muttered under his breath,

"Wouldn't be the first time." Miley shot him a dirty look and stomped on his foot, hard. While Oliver was whining about his self-proclaimed broken toes, Miley stepped into the kitchen.

"Travis..." She swallowed extra hard. "...Hi."

_**Ahh. This is a freaking long chapter. The longest I've ever written in my entire life. I apologize for how long it took you to read it...If anybody has a problem with my chapters getting longer, please tell me. I don't want to kill anybody's eyes or anything...**_

_**Hopefully you enjoyed it! I believe the next chapter won't take me as long to write as this one did, but my muse is not very predictable. **_

_**Again, tell me what you thought! **_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Ack. I'm sorry. Due to a combination of crappy things you probably wouldn't care about/understand, I haven't felt up to writing this story for a while. I probably would've taken even longer, but today (August 14th) is my bestest friend Jen (SVUlover)'s birthday, and this is part of her birthday present. :) **_

_**I hope you like it Jennie! I wish this chapter could be 10x as good as the last, but I didn't feel like writing an 80,000 word chapter and I doubt anybody would really want to read that lol. So Happy Birthday!!!**_

* * *

"Miley!" Travis exclaimed when she stepped into the kitchen. "Wow, you look great." He obviously didn't find this anywhere near as awkward as she did.

"Umm, thank you?" Miley mumbled in response. She reached behind her and grabbed the first part of Oliver she reached, which happened to be his elbow, and yanked him forward. "This is, uh, Oliver. My boyfriend..." She glanced at Oliver with a worried expression on her face. "Oliver, this is Travis." She finally remembered to say.

"Nice to meet you." Travis said halfheartedly. He reached up as if he were about to tip his hat, seemed to realize he wasn't wearing one, and instead reached out to shake Oliver's hand. Oliver reluctantly took Travis' hand and shook it.

"Oh, Travis dear, there's a card table in the attic, I wasn't sure if I was gonna need it, would you mind getting that for me?" Ruby asked. Miley wasn't sure if she'd noticed the awkwardness between them, or if she just really did need that table.

"Sure thing." Travis said with a weak smile. Once he disappeared around the corner, Miley turned to her grandmother and hissed,

"Why did you invite him?" Ruby turned to face her granddaughter with an innocent look on her face.

"Well aren't you guys friends? You were always spending so much time together whenever you came out here to visit."

"_Grandma!_" Miley whined. She didn't have time to explain any further, as Travis chose that moment to re-enter the room.

"I'm sorry Miley, I didn't know it would make you uncomfortable." Ruby apologized quietly, before grinning and thanking Travis for his services.

...

"_A couple people?" _Miley whispered, leaning toward her grandmother as she sat down in the last chair on the side of the table adjacent to the side Ruby was sitting on.

"Well, Miley dear, nowadays 'a couple' is so much _more_ than a couple." Ruby smiled innocently, looking up to make sure everybody else had found a seat.

Oliver seemed reluctant to sit in the chair to Miley's right, and Miley turned to see him standing nervously behind her. He gave her a look that told her exactly what he was uncomfortable about, and she stood up so that she could switch seats with him. Oliver took the seat between Miley and her grandmother with ease and immediately picked up his fork.

"Somebody pass the potatoes!" Ruby said loudly, commencing the celebration dinner.

Food was passed around - and across – the table for several minutes until all of Miley's relatives, family friends and virginity stealers – in Travis' case – had filled their plates.

Miley set the basket of biscuits she'd just had in her hand down in a clear spot on the table, and reached for her fork. Her hand met with Travis' and they both looked up, embarrassed.

"Sorry." He mumbled. "My fork's on the right."

"Yeah." She agreed, awkwardly looking away.

After one plate full of food and several minutes of awkwardness, Miley and Travis finally started talking again.

"I heard you on the radio the other day."

"Really? ?" Miley asked, not so sure she wanted to try to keep up somewhat of a conversation.

"She _was _a world famous pop star." Oliver interrupted, making it known that he'd been eavesdropping. Miley glared at him for what had probably been the fifteenth time in the past half hour, and stuck a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her mouth. Travis looked away, slightly embarrassed.

The rest of the dinner went by much like the beginning. When Travis stopped eating long enough to say something, it was usually to either Miley or her grandmother, and almost always was countered with an insult from Oliver.

After a while, Miley simply ignored Oliver and all of the comments he was making, and struck up a conversation with her Aunt Dolly, who was sitting on the other end of the table. Miley's Grandma Ruthie ended the conversation prematurely when she and Dolly got in an argument about rhinestones, so Miley turned away and ignored it.

"Where'd you get this corn from, Ruby?" Travis asked Miley's grandmother, as he picked up a particularly small ear of corn. "It's so small."

"Yeah, kind of like your d-"

"OLIVER!" Miley shouted, slamming her fist down on the table. All of the dishes rattled, and Ruby reached out to steady a pitcher.

"You wanna finish that sentence, city boy?" Travis asked, sliding his chair back.

"I don't think I need to, _hillbilly_." Oliver said, standing up.

"What is your problem?" Travis asked, back on his feet. Everybody stared in complete silence.

Miley stood up, knocking her chair over, and left the room in tears. Oliver immediately turned and followed her.

"Miley!" He called after her as she marched up the stairs. "Miley come on! I'm sorry!" She spun around at the top of the stairs, and Oliver almost ran into her.

"DON'T lie to me."

"I'm really sorry Miles. I couldn't help it."

"No, you _could _help it, you just didn't want to." She turned away and stepped up to the second floor.

"Miley you don't get it. He's your ex, I can't like him, it's practically against the rules."

"You've never had a problem breaking the rules before." Miley said quietly as she swung the bedroom door open.

"He kind of intimidates me..." Oliver mumbled, as Miley turned around to close the door. He reached out to stop it, and added, "I mean, he was your first..." He stopped talking when he saw the tears still streaming down her face. "I'm sorry Miley, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"You can go back downstairs and apologize." She said, forcing the door shut.

Oliver stood outside the bedroom door for a couple of minutes before he found the courage to go back downstairs. Everybody was talking again, but not nearly as loudly as they had been before Oliver and Miley had left.

Awkwardly, Oliver sat back down in his chair and picked up his fork. He glanced at Travis, who was pushing some carrots around on his plate with his own fork, and turned back to his dinner, which was cold now. He could see Ruby staring at him out of the corner of his eye, and the rest of the room had grown much quieter since he'd sat down.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled. Travis only nodded, and turned to his right to talk to a guy Oliver didn't recognize. He sat for a few minutes without saying or eating anything. After a while, Oliver stood up and took his plate and his glass into the kitchen, dumping his plate and setting both items in the sink. He grabbed a sponge from the edge of the sink, scrubbed his plate, rinsed it off and set it on the towel Ruby kept next to her sink for the clean dishes.

After a while, Miley came back downstairs and joined everybody on the front porch, where a couple of her uncles were playing guitar. She made sure not to sit by Oliver, but she smiled at him while she sang along, telling him she was in the process of forgiving him.

Oliver couldn't help but stare at her as she sat there on the porch swing, singing along to some country song he didn't recognize. Her hair was so shiny tonight, and the sundress she was wearing... Travis of course couldn't keep his eyes off her either, which made Oliver slightly angry, but not mad enough to do anything about it. He wasn't stupid enough to piss Miley off again.

The only words Miley said to Oliver that night, once everybody had gone home, were "Gimme the toothpaste." but she didn't say it like she was mad, so Oliver slept peacefully that night, knowing that he probably wasn't going to wake up with his head sliced off. Not that he would actually wake up after that.

Miley was up with Rupert the next morning, but Oliver slept like a log through the rooster's alarm. Silently, she slipped out of the bedroom, taking a tee shirt and some shorts with her. She changed in the hallway, since her grandmother didn't frequent the second story of her home and there was no risk of her being seen.

With an unusual amount of energy, Miley jogged down the stairs and flung open the refrigerator. She grabbed two apples, one for Blue Jeans and one for herself, and left the house, with the screen door swinging shut loudly behind her.

Skipping across the lawn, Miley made her way to the pasture, where she found Blue Jeans waiting by the section of the fence that passed by the barn, as if he'd known she was bringing him food.

"Hey there little man." Miley said, rubbing between his ears. "You want the apple?" She took a bite. "Too bad. It's mine." He stuck his nose in her armpit and pushed her away playfully. "No need to be pushy. You can have this one." She held out the second apple and Blue Jeans snatched it from her outstretched hand.

"That was some day yesterday, wasn't it?" She asked him, as if he could stand up on his hind legs and say "It sure was. You got any more apples?" Blue Jeans shook his head, almost as if he were agreeing, and dropped the rest of the apple on the ground. He put his head back down and picked up the remaining half of the apple.

"I don't know if it was a good idea coming out here." Miley confessed to her horse. His ears perked up and he stared at her for a moment, chewing slowly. "I'm glad I got to see you again though!" She reached over the fence and ran her hand down his neck.

"If I'd known Travis was gonna be around..." Blue Jeans stuck his head over the fence, waiting for more food. "I wasn't going to admit it, but I really missed him."

"You two talkin' 'bout me?" A deep voice said from behind her. Miley spun around and shrieked in surprise.

"Travis! Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry." He apologized, laughing.

Travis set down the paint cans he'd been carrying and leaned up against the fence next to Miley.

"So you still work for my nana?" Miley asked him, rubbing Blue Jeans' nose.

"Once in a while. I have a job at the Tractor Supply Company, but I help Ruby out whenever I can."

"Oooh. Tractor Supply Company." Miley mumbled, not sure what she should say next to keep the conversation going.

"Not as glamorous as being a pop star, but I don't have a voice like you, so I have to stick to farm equipment repair." He said with a laugh.

"It's not so glamorous anymore."

"Yeah, I saw in the news." Travis told her. "About you giving up singing. It's a shame. You've got a lot of talent."

"Everybody keeps telling me that." Miley said, forcing a smile.

"'Cause it's true." He said, smiling at her. Miley looked away and held on her fake smile.

"Not so much anymore. I just...I can't do it."

"You're so different Miley. What happened to you? We were so happy, and then it just...went away."

"Yeah, well..." Miley mumbled. She wasn't sure she really wanted to talk about it with him. They'd never really discussed why it was best to break up, it had just happened. He still didn't know why she couldn't be with him anymore. "Things change. People change."

"Usually there's a reason though." Travis said, staring at her. Miley didn't say anything for a minute, and when she did speak again, she'd chose to change the subject.

"We _were_ talking about you." Travis cocked his head slightly, confused. "I was telling Blue Jeans about how much I missed you these past couple years." Travis smiled, stuck his hand out to pet Blue Jeans again, and turned to face Miley.

"Miley...I have to tell you something, or I'm going to regret not taking a chance and saying this for the rest of my life."

…

That stupid rooster. He hadn't woke Oliver with his crowing, but he'd sure woke every single chicken within a 30 mile radius. The stupid clucking animals sounded almost as if they were underneath his pillow, they were so loud.

Grumpily, Oliver got out of bed and pulled on some shorts. He didn't bother changing his shirt. It matched.

Miley was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't much of a surprise. He almost always slept longer than her.

He found Miley's grandma at the kitchen table, wearing a bathrobe and eating some leftover biscuits from the night before.

"Good morning!" She greeted enthusiastically.

"Good morning." Oliver replied, quite _un_enthusiastically, as he opened the refrigerator and helped himself to some orange juice.

"Chickens wake you up?" She asked, knowingly.

"Yeah."

"Thought so." Ruby said with a laugh.

"Where's Miley?" Oliver asked, setting his glass in the sink.

"Outside somewhere. I heard the door this morning. That was probably her." Oliver nodded and exited through the same door Miley had used earlier that morning.

He could see her standing by the fence near the barn, talking to a guy. Oliver couldn't quite tell who it was, but he had a pretty good feeling.

When he got closer to the barn, he could hear them talking. What they were saying wasn't exactly clear enough until he got even closer.

"Miley...I have to tell you something, or I'm going to regret not taking a chance and telling you for the rest of my life." He heard Travis say. Oliver clenched his fist, wanting so bad to punch this douche bag's lights out, but he chose to stay where he was and listen some more.

Oliver regretted his decision when he heard what this oh-so- important thing Travis needed to say was. If he'd just punched him... Miley said something, a little too quietly for Oliver to hear, but the surprised look on her face was slightly comforting. However, when Travis asked her a question, her hesitation was all Oliver needed to hear.

…

"Umm...okay." Miley said nervously.

"I..." Travis reached up and scratched his forehead. "Miley I'm still in love with you."

Miley swallowed hard, unsure of what exactly she should say.

"I'm with Oliver Travis."

"I know that." He said sadly. "But do you really love him?" Miley didn't say anything right away. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. She'd only just got over Travis, she didn't need this. She was heading right back to where she'd tried so hard to get away from, and the last thing she wanted was to go through everything she'd already gone through again.

Miley wasn't sure that it was really any of Travis' business if she loved Oliver or not. She of course did, and he'd told her time and again that he loved her back, but she didn't need Travis in that picture. She didn't want to be a part of his life anymore, and letting him know these little things about herself really wasn't helping that any.

"More than anything." She finally answered.

…

Oliver sat in the living room watching TV for nearly two hours before Miley came back in. Her hair was messed up and the makeup she hadn't taken off last night was smeared. Oliver tried to ignore it, and kept his eyes on the TV, even when she sat down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

She placed her hand on his leg and neither of them said nothing. Oliver flipped through the channels a couple times, but he wasn't really watching. He was thinking about Travis and how he wanted to rip his head off. And his arms, and his legs, and his-

"Go back. I like that show." Miley said, interrupting Oliver's thoughts.

He looked down at her just as she wiped her eye. She looked so sad. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and give her the likely to be broken promise that everything would be okay, but after what he'd heard, he couldn't talk to her – he could barely even look at her – without thinking of her and Travis. Together. In a way that she wasn't willing to be with him.

"Oh, nevermind. I've already seen this episode." Oliver changed the channel a couple more times before settling on an episode of CSI on Spike.

Together, Miley and Oliver watched episode after episode of CSI, silently bonding over endings for six hours straight. Neither of them said more than a couple of words.

Around one o 'clock, Oliver asked Miley to make him a sandwich.

"Oh, so it is true. Guys _do_ think all women are good for is sandwich-making and sex." Miley joked.

"They're good for keeping the fridge stocked too." Oliver replied, trying not to smile.

"Would you like some pie with that, sweetie?" Miley asked him jokingly.

Before Oliver could say yes, Travis appeared in the entryway to the living room.

"I'm heading out. Thought I'd say goodbye..." He looked at Oliver sadly for a moment, and added, "Tell your grandma I'll be back next weekend to finish."

"Bye." Miley said, waving as he turned and left.

"No." Oliver answered, changing his mind. "I don't want any pie."

The rest of the day went much as the first part had. Miley knew something was up right away, but she had neither the energy nor the desire to argue about it required to do anything about whatever Oliver's problem was. She childishly hoped that the problem would just go away.

After lunch, Miley went back out to the pasture and hopped on Blue Jeans' back. The last couple of times she'd been out here she and Travis had worked with him a lot. Before, he would've run away and rubbed her off on a tree. Now, she could ride him using nothing but pressure on his sides. He didn't always listen, but that's how life was. You learned things, you knew that was how things were, how they were supposed to be, and sometimes you just didn't listen and did it all wrong anyway.

Miley mostly let Blue Jeans wander around the pasture as she thought to herself about things she really didn't want to be upsetting herself over, and cried, adding one more thing to the list of things she'd been crying about this morning.

It was almost dark when Miley came back inside, covered in mosquito bites and a soon-to-be-painful sunburn.

"Oooh, somebody's gonna be in pain in the morning." Ruby commented when her red-as-a-firetruck granddaughter came inside.

"_I already am_." Miley whined, sitting down with a loud thump in the chair next to her grandmother. Resting her head on her arms, Miley confessed to her grandma,

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Do what, sweetie?" Ruby asked, offering Miley a banana from the basket in the center of the table.

"Be happy. Be with Oliver." Miley turned her head so that she could see Ruby, but kept it resting on the table.

"Why's that?"

"I don't know. I thought it was going good, but Travis and I talked this morning about...stuff, and now Oliver's mad at me and I don't know why. It's all just so hard." Miley's grandmother frowned and reached out to put her hand on Miley's shoulder. "I've been taking the pills grandma. I should be happy, shouldn't I?"

"Oh, honey, even people who don't suffer from Depression are sad sometimes. It's completely normal."

"I know. I just...don't feel any different than I used to. I love Oliver, I really do, but I can't help but think that he doesn't love me. There's this voice in my head that keeps telling me that it's not going to last. I don't want to believe it, but sometimes I do." Miley slammed her head against the table in frustration.

"Hey, don't do that. Giving yourself a concussion isn't going to fix anything." Ruby said, half of a smile on her face. "Go talk to Oliver. Find out why he's mad. _Go to bed_, get some sleep. It'll all work itself out."

"What if it doesn't?" Miley asked.

"It will."

"Yeah, but what if it doesn't?"

"Miley, it _will." _Ruby assured her, standing up.

"But what if it doesn't?"

"Miley, go to bed." Ruby gave her granddaughter a hug and disappeared into her own bedroom for the night.

Miley decided to take her grandmother's advice, and went upstairs to her bedroom. Oliver was in the bathroom when she opened the door, so she took out her pajamas and put them on while she was waiting for him.

When Oliver finished brushing his teeth and came out of the bathroom, Miley was laying in bed with the sheets draped over the lower half of her body.

"Oliver." She said, sitting up just as he yanked his pillow off the bed and put it on the floor. "Oliver what are you doing?"

"Getting ready for bed."

"On the floor?" Miley asked, confused.

"Yes." Oliver responded, grabbing one of the extra blankets from the top of the dresser.

"Why?"

"Saving room for your new boyfriend."

"_What?_" Miley asked angrily. "Oliver what are you talking about?"

"I saw you two together this morning."

"Me and Travis? So what? There's nothing to see. We were talking." Miley explained to him, pulling her pillow into her lap.

"Yeah, well I heard you. I heard what he told you."

"Just because he told me he loves me doesn't mean I love him too Oliver."

"Well you didn't say you didn't." He laid down on the floor and turned on his side, with his back to her.

"Oliver you know I love you. Not him." Miley said, squeezing the life out of her pillow.

"You have a funny way of showing it." He said quietly. "Goodnight."

"No, Oliver, come on. You can't be serious! You're mad at me because of something I can't control?"

"That's always your excuse Miley. "I can't help it." Well you could've told him you didn't feel the same way instead of staring at him like a begging puppy."

"I didn't stare at him like a begging puppy. I was in shock, okay? Forgive me for being a little confused right now. Like it or not, Travis was my best friend for a long time. He was more than that. He's still one of my best friends, even if things didn't work out between us romantically." Oliver didn't say a word.

"Oliver, please. Get up here."

"No."

"I can't believe you! I didn't _do _anything."

"Yes you did. You got all mad at me last night and then go have a heart to heart with Mr. Cowboy. You'll bang him in the barn but you barely even let me touch you for longer than a couple of seconds."

"You're mad at me because I won't have sex with you?"

"No, I'm not. It's more than that."

"Don't give me that. You know that's what this is about. You're jealous of him. Well if all you want is sex, I'm sure you could go find lots of other girls who want nothing else from you."

"Miley, that's not what I-"

"It is. I'm sorry I won't do it with you. I just really don't want to regret it. It screwed things up last time, I don't want it to happen again. I'm not ready Oliver." Miley let go of the pillow and let it rest in her lap.

"You don't have to tell me that. I know Miley. That's definitely not all I want from you."

"Then why are you mad about it?" She asked him.

"I'm not! I already told you that!"

"Then what _are _you mad about?"

"Nothing. Just...nothing."

"Then get in bed." Oliver stood up and flipped the light switch, plunging the room into darkness and giving Miley her answer.

Miley sighed and stuck her pillow behind her head where it belonged. She didn't even bother closing her eyes, she knew she wouldn't be sleeping. For several minutes, Miley stared up toward the ceiling, until she gave in and sat up. Taking her pillow and a blanket with her, she got out of bed and laid down beside Oliver on the floor.

"Can't sleep without you." She told him, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. His arm slid around her and pulled her closer, telling her everything she needed to hear.

* * *

**Now it's time for you all to review!**

**And somebody started the Official HM Fanfic Awards...*coughcough* You should go check out the profile! www. fanfiction. com/~officialhannahmontanaawards (Annihilate the spaces =p) (Why can't we put links in our stories? How dumb is that?)**

**Anywayyy. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. And I'm sorry it took so long. Annd I'm not gonna say anything about how long the next one's gonna take b/c i'll just jinx myself like I always do.**

**THANK YOU TO ALL THE REVIEWERS! I LOVE YOU GUYS! I HIT 100, BABY! YAY! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! 200 by the end would be ABSOLUTELY AMAZING! *creepy smile* It's possible. There's several more chapters coming. Hopefully. =)**

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	15. Chapter 15

_**(Insert apologies here) I'm so tired of apologizing for not updating sooner, but I know I need to do it, so umm...there you go.**_

_**I know it's been forever and a day, but I'm really struggling with my writing now. Most days I'm away from the house for 15 hours straight, so by the time I get home, I really don't wanna write, then I'm too tired the next day, blah blah blah, excuses excuses.**_

_**I promise I'll finish this story, it'll just be a while. I'm really really sorry. **_**:(**

**__****It probably would've taken me even longer to**_** finish this chapter, but I had a near death experience over Labor Day weekend and It made me realize that if I die this will never be finished. Haha. **_

_**Now on the bright side...This story's been nominated for 2 Hannah Montana Fanfiction Awards! Best Moliver & Best Drama. So thank you thank you thank you! I've also been nominated for Best Female Author & my story Lovesick has been nominated for best Jiley. I don't know if it counts, but one of my stories on my old account was nominated for Best Romance too. So thank you very very very much to the people who nominated me. You're awesome and I love you!**_

* * *

"WHAT THE FUCK OLIVER WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" Miley yelled, disoriented, in the middle of the night, shooting straight up.

"What?" Oliver mumbled, still half asleep even though Miley's voice had been loud enough to shock a man out of a coma.

"You just smacked me in the face!"

"I did?"

"Would I be yelling at you at four thirty in the morning if you hadn't?" She asked him, rubbing her eyes and laying back down.

"Good point." Oliver said, yawning. "I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven." She told him. Oliver rolled over on his side, with his back to Miley, and was silent for a moment, before commenting,

"The floor is hard."

"It is." Miley agreed sleepily.

"Wanna get back in bed?" He asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"Definitely." Oliver stood up and pulled down the covers on the bed.

"You coming?"

"Only if you carry me." She said, smirking slightly as she pulled her blanket up to her nose.

"Here's a better idea: How about you carry yourself?" He suggested, climbing into bed.

"I can't. It's impossible." She complained, tilting her head back to look up at Oliver, whose face was now directly above hers, sticking out from the foot of the bed.

"Is it?"

"It is. That's why I said it is. I don't lie." She told him, sticking her tongue out.

"That's sure the most truthful statement to ever come out of your mouth." Oliver said sarcastically. Miley smiled and demanded,

"Carry me."

"No."

"Yes."

"No." Oliver refused, turning around and putting his head back on the pillow.

"Yes."

"No."

"No."

"Yes."

"Gotcha." Miley said, grinning. Oliver groaned in defeat and got out of bed.

"What are you, five?"

"Five and a half, mister." Miley said, as Oliver picked her up off the ground and carried her to the bed. "Thank you." She said, lifting her head and pressing her lips to his.

"You're welcome." He said with a smile, lying down next to her and pulling the covers up over both of them.

"I'm sorry about last night." Oliver said after a moment of silence. Miley moved closer to him and pressed her face against his shoulder.

"Its okay. If I were you I'd probably be jealous too." He could almost feel her lips curl upward against his arm.

"I'm not jealous." Oliver insisted.

"Liar."

"Hypocrite."

"Sexy."

"Ditto."

"That doesn't work." Miley said, wrapping her fingers around Oliver's bicep.

"I'll force it to." He said, reaching across his chest with his free arm and grabbing one of Miley's hands.

"Rule breaker." Miley whispered, just as Rupert decided to bless them all with his insanely loud crowing.

…

The days went by, and Miley Oliver didn't fight again. Since they were nearing the end of their vacation, Miley was trying to force Oliver into experiencing all of the things he couldn't experience back home in California, much to Oliver's displeasure. He was still complaining about his sore legs from their horseback riding on the first day, and refused to go anywhere that required much walking.

"Come on Oliver. It's not that far!" Miley whined, tugging on Oliver's shirt as she tried to convince him to join her on a picnic.

"My leg's hurt." Oliver complained, remaining seated at the kitchen table.

"We don't even have to leave the yard. Come on." She paused for a moment, smiled, and added, "We can bring some pie for desert." Oliver looked at her, glanced at the refrigerator, and sighed.

"You cold, manipulative woman."

"You mean that in a good way, right?" Miley asked, sitting on his lap.

"Of course I do!" Oliver said, holding both of her hands in his. Miley stood up, rolled here eyes, and, ignoring Oliver's sarcastic tone, said,

"Don't eat too much for breakfast. We're having lunch at noon." She smiled and left the kitchen through the screen door, leaving Oliver with a large amount of food in front of him, which he now had to stop himself from eating.

Figuring a couple donuts couldn't hurt his appetite, Oliver grabbed a couple of the pastries and started eating them.

"A little late for breakfast, don't ya think?" Ruby asked, coming in through the door Miley'd left through.

"It's never too late for food." Oliver said with his mouth full.

"Tell that to the diner on 4th street. They always close two minutes before you get there." Ruby complained, opening one of the kitchen cupboards and pulling out a clean, empty glass. She held it underneath the faucet and turned on the water, watching it fall into and fill up the glass. "Oliver." She said as she shut off the water. Ruby turned to face him, leaning up against the counter top.

"Boy, I like you. I think you're good for my granddaughter. You're the first good decision she's made when it comes to men in a long time." She paused, and Oliver stopped chewing his donuts, terrified that the silence meant that she expected him to say something. "I'm glad you worked out whatever problem you were having the other day." She smiled at him, and added, "I know you'll take real good care of our Miley."

"...Our?" Oliver repeated, warily. Ruby grinned again, grasped the refrigerator door's handle. She yanked it open and pulled out a gallon jug of milk.

"I guess I'm just trying to say I approve. And I know Miley's daddy does too." Ruby said, pouring Oliver a glass of milk to go with his donuts.

"Thanks." Oliver said, referring to both Ruby's blessing and her milk. He took one last bite of his donut and took a drink of milk, just as Miley's voice echoed through the kitchen. Oliver and Ruby both migrated to the window, as Miley continued yelling something over her shoulder that they couldn't quite understand.

The screen door shook as it flew open and Miley marched angrily back inside. She turned to see her grandmother and boyfriend standing together beside the window, both confused and in shock. Before they had a chance to say anything, Miley answered the question they were both about to ask.

"I'm fine." She assured them, her voice wavering. With that, Miley turned on her heel and disappeared up the stairs, leaving Oliver and Ruby standing alone in the kitchen, without a clue as to what they'd just witnessed.

After a moment of silence, Ruby finally spoke up,

"Well..."

"Well..." Oliver repeated.

"You're her boyfriend." Oliver turned to Ruby and argued,

"You're her grandma!"

"You know her better than I do." Ruby disputed.

"You're family." Oliver pointed out. He really didn't want to go see what was wrong with Miley this time. Sure he loved her, and he hated seeing her sad, but he knew all too well that when Miley was upset at other people, she took it out on him and his remaining chest hairs. He had none left for her to pull out, but he was sure she'd find other hairs to yank out.

"You love her!" Ruby argued.

"So do you!" Ruby just stared at him, saying nothing until Oliver gave in.

"_Fine._" He muttered, defeated. "If she kills me, its your fault."

"I'll call 911 when I hear you screaming like a baby." Ruby said with a smile as Oliver sulked up the stairs.

He knocked on the door and received no response. Taking the absence of a "GO AWAY!" as a welcome, Oliver pushed the door open and entered the room. Miley was sitting on the bed in the dark, staring at the floor.

Oliver pulled open the blinds on the window, letting in some light, and sat down next to Miley on the bed. She glanced up at him, sighed, and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thanks for coming up here." She said quietly, running her index finder down his leg. Oliver wrapped his arm around her and twirled a loose strand of her long hair around his finger, hiding his shock that she'd calmed down so quickly.

"Somebody would've had to lock me in a room full of lions to keep me from making sure you were okay." Oliver lied miserably.

"Or held a slice of pie in front of you." Miley said, a slight smile appearing on her face.

"What kind of pie?" Oliver asked hesitantly. Miley grinned and kissed him, giving him an answer that didn't quite make sense.

"I'm okay now. I'm gonna go get lunch ready." She said, her voice quieter than was normal for her.

"Are you sure? Do you want to talk about it?" Oliver asked, secretly hoping she would say no.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Miley said exactly what Oliver'd wanted to hear. "It's not a big deal. Not much of a story." She opened the door and took one step, before she turned around again.

"I love you Oliver." She said quietly. He smiled and kissed her, rather than saying anything.

…

Oliver's phone rang just as Miley finished wrapping the fourth sandwich (one for her, three for him), and he quickly ducked out of the room.. She took her time placing everything in the basket she'd found in the attic so that Oliver would have time to finish his phone call. She slowly poured some cherry Kool-aid into two empty water bottles, screwed the lids on, and placed them in the basket between the sandwiches and the apples she'd placed inside earlier.

Since Oliver's telephone conversation was taking a long time, Miley passed the time by intricately folding more napkins than they needed and stacking them in the basket atop of the sandwiches.

"Sorry about that." Oliver said quietly, reappearing in the kitchen at Miley's side just as she finished folding the blanket she'd taken out for their picnic.

"It's okay." She said, placing her hand on his cheek. He gave her a tiny kiss and picked up her basket with a sad smile. "Who was on the phone?" She asked him, knowing she was coming of as nosy, but not caring.

"Nobody important." He answered, pulling her up against his side as they left the house together, basket in hand.

…

"What's wrong, Oliver?" Miley asked, setting her sandwich down on the bag she'd taken it out of. She knew something was bothering him, as he'd only taken one bite of his sandwich. Oliver was _always _hungry. There had to be something seriously wrong if he wasn't eating.

"Nothing." Oliver spat, sounding much angrier than he'd intended to. He looked up from his sandwich, bombarded with guilt the second he saw Miley's face. As much as he wanted to apologize for sounding how he had, he didn't. She tried to hide her shock at Oliver's unexpected outburst by picking her peanut butter and jelly sandwich up again. Her hair hid her face when she leaned over, and when it fell away after she'd sat back up, she was back to normal.

They both sat in near complete silence for several minutes, until Miley finally spoke again.

"What is it?" Oliver took a particularly large bite of his sandwich, chewed it slowly, and answered calmly,

"What is what?" Her usual smile steered clear of Miley's face, and she stared at him with no expression at all. "What makes you think something's wrong, Miley?" Oliver rephrased.

"You've hardly eaten anything."

"I had a lot of donuts for breakfast." He said, making up an excuse.

"A whole truck full of donuts?"

"Maybe..." He knew she could see right through him. She could probably count every freaking blade of grass he was sitting on.

"You aren't talking to me." She told him, her voice cracking slightly.

"I'm talking to you right now." Oliver said, picking the crust off of his sandwich without looking her in the eyes and sticking the tanner pieces of bread into his mouth.

"You're defending yourself."

"Same thing."

"Fine. You don't wanna tell me what's wrong, don't." Miley said. She wasn't giving up. She knew he'd tell her eventually. She took one last bite of her sandwich, swallowed it, and reached into the basket once more, pulling out an apple. She rubbed it against her jeans, shining it, and took a loud bite.

"Miley, I-"

"No, don't tell me if you don't want to. It's none of my business, right?" She said. Her eyes were shooting daggers through his face, contradicting the slight smile she was wearing. Oliver groaned loudly, threw his remaining sandwich down on the blanket between them. He fell backward, lying on his back, and said,

"You are so difficult."

"Me? _I'm _difficult?" Miley asked, trying and failing miserably to hide her shock. "Do you realize what you're saying?"

"Do _you _realize what _you're _saying?"

"Don't mock me." Miley said, viciously biting into her apple and throwing it back into the basket. Oliver flinched, and responded,

"I'm not mocking you."

"You are too!"

"Miley, can we just drop this?"

"No. You started it, you might as well finish it."

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry I called you difficult, you're actually really, really easy." Miley grabbed all two and a half of Oliver's sandwiches, threw them back into the basket, not caring if they got smashed or not, and slammed the lid shut.

"You asshole."

"Me? You're the one making something out of nothing."

"I am not!" Miley insisted angrily, ripping the blanket out from under Oliver's knees. "I was worried about you. _Excuse me _for caring!"

"You weren't caring, you were being nosy! You think you have to know everything, and it drives you insane when you don't!" Miley had several things in mind, but she didn't say any of them. She just stared at him with her mouth shut.

"That was another rejection call, wasn't it?" She asked, a more affectionate tone to her voice.

"No." Oliver lied.

"It was too."

"It was not! Can't you just leave me alone?" Oliver asked her, agitated.

"No, Oliver, I can't. I know there's a reason you're upset."

"Since when do I need a reason to be having a bad day?" He asked her, frustratingly running his fingers through his hair.

"Since I know you, Oliver. You take rejection about as well as a barn cat takes swimming lessons."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Oliver asked her, standing up. She followed his lead and stood up, grabbing the picnic basket.

"You know exactly what that means!"

"No I don't! Your weird country sayings confuse me." He confessed, trying to keep the angry expression on his face so that he wouldn't lose to her.

"You get _so_ mad, and you take it out on anything and everything that comes near you! I've never met anybody who takes rejection as badly as you do. I think you need to get some help."

"Oh, some more great advice coming from a Bipolar psychopath." Oliver spat. Miley's mouth was open, as she'd been ready to say something, but she closed it and swallowed hard, desperately trying not to cry.

"I hate you." She whispered, dropping the picnic basket on the ground, it's contents spilling out as she took off for the house.

…

The remains of Oliver's sandwiches and the cookies Miley had packed lay soaked on the grass all through the night while it rained, and Oliver and Miley stayed inside, on separate ends of the house. Miley had been hiding out in the basement of the house all evening, while Oliver had the bedroom this time.

Thunder gently shook the house, and the light bulb hanging above Miley's head flickered for about a millisecond. With a sniffle, she closed the photo album she'd been looking through, stuffed it back into one of the many boxes of her mother's things that her grandmother kept in the basement, and unenthusiastically made her way back upstairs.

Ruby was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of milk and a stack of chocolate chip cookies in front of her when Miley reached the top of the basement stairs.

"Want some cookies?" She asked, pretending she hadn't noticed that Miley and Oliver were no longer speaking.

"No thanks. I'm really tired." Miley said, pausing at the bottom of the staircase with one foot in the kitchen and one foot on the bottom step.

"Long day?" Ruby questioned nonchalantly, dipping one of the cookies in her milk.

"Yeah." Miley agreed. "That's it." Her right foot left the staircase and came down to the hardwood floor of the kitchen once again.

"Anything you wanna talk about?"

"No. I'm fine." Miley lied, sitting down across from her grandmother with an 'I need to talk to somebody' look on her face anyway.

"You'll work it out." Ruby assured Miley, taking a bite of her soggy cookie.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Miley said, standing up. She reached for a cookie, dipped it in the milk, and left the room with a crunch.

…

Much to Oliver's surprise, Miley came back up to their room, replaced her jeans with a pair of Soffe shorts, brushed her teeth, and climbed into bed without a single word. This was an oddity when it came to Miley. She usually couldn't do anything without talking, but lately that seemed to be the last thing in the world that she wanted to do. At least with him.

"Miley I said I was sorry." Oliver stated for the hundredth time that night. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm _sorry._"

"And you can keep on saying it." She said indifferently, rolling over on her side.

"Miley-" Oliver turned on the lamp on the bedside table beside him.

"No. Stop talking to me. You can say sorry all you want, but I'm not accepting your stupid apology until you actually mean it."

"I do mean it!"

"No you don't! You can't mean it." She yelled at him, covering her face with her hands to hide the tears she could feel coming.

"How do you know I don't?" He asked, lowering his voice. He didn't want to make her more angry than she already was.

"You can't tell me you didn't mean what you said. You did. You wouldn't have said it if you didn't really think that." She leaned over him to turn off the lamp, but his fingers were clamped around her wrists before she could reach the pull chain.

"What are these?" He asked her, focusing on the bruises around her wrists.

"Why do you care?" She asked him bitterly, pulling herself free of his grasp.

"Miley who did that to you?" Oliver asked, now much more concerned with the bruises circling her wrists than the fact that she hated him.

"Nobody did that to me. It's nothing." She rolled over on her side again, sliding as far over as she could without falling off of the bed.

Oliver let it go. He knew she wasn't going to tell him. At least not with the malicious feelings she had toward him at the moment.

"I really am sorry Miley." He whispered, knowing it would do absolutely no good. She didn't respond. "Haven't you ever said something that you wish you hadn't even thought?"

There was silence for a moment, the only sound that of both of them breathing, combined with the noise the wind was making outside as it blew through the trees.

"Yeah." She said "I have. '_I love you'_"

…

Over the next two days, Miley and Oliver may have shared a bed, but they didn't share a single word, neither hateful nor apologetic. Ruby tried not to intervene all this time, because frankly, she didn't know how to help or what to say to make either of them feel any better. Miley spent much of her time outside, while Oliver did the opposite. Ruby knew he was uncomfortable being alone in the house with his (ex?) girlfriend's grandmother, so she tried to give him his space.

Oliver''s sulking began to get to her after a while, so rather than spend the majority of her day in the kitchen like she had the last couple days, Ruby went outside to find Miley. She found her by the barn, petting her horse over the fence, something Ruby noticed Miley had been doing a lot when she was upset.

"You need to forgive him." Miley jumped at the sound of her grandmother's voice, not expecting to find that she wasn't alone.

"I did." Miley lied, turning around, placing her back against the wooden fence.

"Then why is he still so miserable?"

"I don't know. Ask him."

"Miley he really is sorry." Ruby said. She didn't want to seem like she was on the enemy's side – which is what she was pretty sure Miley was thinking – but Ruby also didn't want to spend the only time she had with a grumpy granddaughter.

"How do you know?"

"How do you know he's not?"

"I..." Miley looked down at the ground and kicked at a clump of dirt. "He called me a Bipolar psychopath."

"People always say stupid things. But they don't always mean them." Miley aimed her toe at the clump of dirt and kicked it as hard as she could. It flew toward the north wall of the barn and smashed into the tractor, crumbling into pieces.

"Yeah. Maybe."

…

"It's been a while since you had that much meat between your legs, hasn't it?" A voice pulled Miley from her stupor, and it took her a second to realize who had said it and what exactly is was that he was insinuating.

"_What?_"

"I'm just, you know, _assuming _your little girlfriend doesn't have much in that department." Travis drawled, resting his chin on the fence post between them. Miley jumped off of Blue Jeans' back and approached the fence.

"I wouldn't know., but I'm sure he kicks your ass in whatever 'department' it is you're talking about." She told him. Why she felt the need to defend Oliver was beyond her. Travis laughed loudly and spat,

"You wouldn't know. Ha. Like I believe that."

"Are you drunk?" Miley asked him. She'd suspected it from the second he'd first spoke, but she didn't need him giving her any more bruises, so she'd humored him and answered his little question.

"Yes. No. Maybe." He laughed again and ducked beneath the fence, standing a little too close for comfort.

"Why are you like this? What _happened _to you?" Miley asked him. She wasn't so sure why she cared anymore, but he'd once meant a lot to her. The difference between the Travis she'd loved and the Travis who now stood in front of her, breathing heavily in her face, was overwhelming.

"This happened to me." He said, grabbing her hand and pressing it against his groin so hard she was surprised it didn't hurt him. She immediately pulled her hand away and stepped back, shocked.

"What?" He asked, a slight – and out of place – smile appearing on his face. "You know you liked it." He honestly seemed to believe that she did.

"Who _are _you? I don't even know you anymore.." He hiccuped and the smile didn't falter.

"You know what _I _know?" He asked her, completely ignoring her question. He hardly gave her a chance to answer, and continued. "I'd really like an Australian kiss."

"What?" Miley asked, clueless as to what he was talking about.

"Like a French kiss. But down under." Miley tried to pretend that he hadn't just propositioned her for a blow job, and kept the shock off her face successfully.

"I'm just gonna go back inside...and help my grandma with her...TV. Yeah..." She bent over to go under the fence, but he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her upright.

"Miley, if you won't leave him... We can still be together. I can live with this."

"Get off of me." She said through her teeth, trying to pull away from him, but failing.

"Miley please. I'm begging you."

"Travis, I can't. You're...you're drunk. You're...I can't. I just can't. Please let go."

"I'll stop drinking." He promised her. His breath smelled of alcohol. It was an awful stench that filled Miley's nostrils and left her feeling like _she'd_ been the one drinking.

"Travis, I _can't_. I don't want-"

"You don't want me? You don't _want me?_" His voice was laced with hysteria. He sounded like he wanted to cry, or punch something. Or both.

"No. No Travis, I don't."

"_Why?" _His eyes seemed a lot more bloodshot now, like he was on the verge of crying. "You used to! Why don't you want me anymore?"

"I couldn't do it!" She said, bursting into tears. "I couldn't...it wasn't right. It wasn't what I wanted it to be, it wasn't how I expected it to be. It wasn't with the right person."

"...What are you talking about?" He asked her, letting go. She'd planned on running when he released her, but now she couldn't do that. She needed to explain to him why she'd left.

"Sex, Travis. I'm talking about sex. I don't know why, but it really messed me up. It wasn't how I imagined my first time at all. I just...every time I looked at you after that, I couldn't help but think that we'd completely ruined things between us and it was going to be over any minute."

"I think..." He paused, like he was thinking. Miley relaxed every so slightly, and waited, thinking he might say something that could help her forgive him for the way he'd been acting. She was wrong. Travis moved closer, grabbed her breasts and said,

"I think we should try it again." She didn't know why this upset her so much, but Travis' drunken suggestion, combined with his actions, caused Miley to burst into tears. She was bawling, shaking so hard that she couldn't crawl under the fence and run away from all of this. She could hardly even stand.

Miley fell to her knees just as a figure leaped over the fence. There was a loud thump when fist connected with face. She knew she really should stop this, but after what Travis had just done to her, she really thought he deserved to get some sense beat into him.

"Oliver..stop it. Stop." She said, without much conviction, as Oliver beat Travis' face into the dirt. Travis, being in the drunken state he was in, hardly put up a fight at all. "Please don't do this." She said, despite the thrill it gave her. "He's not worth it. Oliver!" She shouted his name one last time, and Oliver lowered his fist, crawled off of him, and stood up straight, looking at Miley with an unsure expression on his face. He wasn't sure if he was going to get in trouble for this. He'd expected to, but the look on Miley's face sort of contradicted his expectations.

She blinked once, wiped her left eye with the back of her hand, and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Oliver. He held her in his arms for a moment, before she finally asked him, "Why did you do that?"

"He made you cry." He told her, squeezing her up against him. "Only I can get away with that."

…

The ride to the airport was a silent one, but a lot was said in the car between Miley and Oliver. The whole way there, they held hands. Miley rested her head against Oliver's shoulder, and he held her to him, loving how it felt to have his arm around her again.

As they pulled into the parking lot of the airport, Miley looked up at Oliver with an expression on her face that asked "How do I keep you?" He pressed his lips to her forehead and kissed her, telling her "Do exactly what you've been doing."

Ruby couldn't go past security, so that was where the heartfelt goodbyes took place. Miley promised her she'd call her every weekend, and that she'd visit again soon, but Oliver could tell that she was hoping the calls would be enough. Oliver told Ruby that it had been nice meeting her, and she told him the same thing, adding, once again, that she approved one hundred percent, causing a blush to sneak onto both Miley and Oliver's cheeks.

Miley hugged her grandma one more time before they went through security and boarded the plane, taking them back home, where everything and everybody was familiar, and nobody tried to make drunken sexual advances on anybody's girlfriends.

Miley opened the door upon their arrival at home, and a familiar smell instantly drifted out of the apartment that hadn't been occupied for the past two weeks.

"It feels _so _good to be home." Miley said, glancing at Oliver.

"I wouldn't know. We're not inside yet."

"Smartaleck."

"Thank you."

"That's not a complement." Miley said, pulling Oliver – who of course was carrying all of her luggage – inside.

"But I'm gonna take it as one." Oliver said with a smile as he dropped their humongous – and tremendously heavy – suitcases on the floor.

"I can give you better ones." She said, grabbing a hold of his t-shirt.

"Can you?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You look really sexy in this shirt."

"You would look really sexy without yours." She seemed to enjoy Oliver's perverted comments a whole lot more than Travis', as she just smiled and laughed.

"You _would_ say that."

"_Y__ou_ would say _that._" Miley grinned and kissed him, leaning against him so hard that if he were to move, she'd fall right on her face. "Thank you."

"For what?" Miley asked him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"For forgiving me." Oliver explained, running his hand up and down her back as he held her.

"You know I can't live without you."

…

Home was the greatest place on Earth. It may not be the happiest, but it was certainly the greatest. Sleeping in her own bed was great. Eating food from her own refrigerator was great. Being away from Travis was great. But most importantly, being with Oliver was great.

She didn't have to worry about her grandmother walking in on them making out, she didn't have to think about what she said to him, she didn't have to worry about anything but being with him, paying her bills, and making sure she had enough food in the refrigerator.

"You want some?"

"Of course I d- Oh. You meant the cookies."

"Oh! That's so funny! Hahaha! You're so funny! Hahaha." She abruptly stopped laughing and handed him the plate of cookies.

"I know I am." He said with a smile as he shoved one of her cookies in his mouth, and took a bite. Miley sat down beside him and stole the plate from him, taking a cookie off of it and putting the plate down on the coffee table.

"This is fun." She commented.

"This is a good cookie." Oliver agreed with a smile.

"I'm gonna go to bed."

"You can't go to bed right after eating!" Oliver told her, shaking his head sadly.

"Who says?"

"I do." Oliver stated, taking another loud bite of his cookie.

"I thought Simon said."

"I can be Simon."

"Oooh, Multiple Personality Disorder much?" She said, stealing the last bite of his cookie that was sticking out of his mouth.

"Oooh, that's a lot of big words, don't you think Miley Stewart/Hannah Montana?"

"Okay you made your point." She said, grinning as she stood up.

"Don't go."

"I have to sleep. I'm tired." She said, despite the smile that said she'd probably be staying a little while longer.

"Sleep here." He said, pulling her down on top of him.

"You want me to sleep on you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You can do anything on me."

"I'm going to bed." She said authoritatively. "Goodnight." She kissed him and added, "Love you."

"Love you." He repeated, not letting go of her as she tried to get up.

"Goodnight." She said, laughing as she struggled to get up.

"Say it one more time." He ordered.

"I love you." She said again. He pulled her back down, kissed her, and let her go. Oliver stayed on the couch for several minutes, before he finally got up to go to bed.

His bed had felt so empty without her in it. He'd known that once they got home he'd be expected to sleep in his own bed, but he still wasn't used to it, a whole week later.

It was several hours before Oliver finally fell into a peaceful and dreamless sleep. He woke up the next morning to complete silence, and was tempted to just close his eyes and go back to sleep, but he didn't. He got out of bed, he made himself breakfast, and just to please Miley, who appeared to still be sleeping, he even went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Unfortunately, Oliver was out of toothpaste, which made the whole teeth-brushing thing a lot more difficult. With a sigh, he opened the forbidden medicine cabinet, thinking that maybe Miley would have an extra tube, but she didn't. She did however, have a unfamiliar blue packet setting on the bottom shelf. He didn't mean to be nosy, but with a sense of deja vu, Oliver picked it up and flipped it open.

…

"What are these?" Oliver asked, gently pushing Miley's bedroom door open. He already knew the answer, but he wanted her to tell him why she had them herself.

"Birth control pills." She said simply, pulling the comforter up to the top as she made her bed.

"And..."

"Why do I have them?" She asked the question he'd been about to ask.

"Yeah." Oliver said

"To scare the crap out of my nosy boyfriend." She told him with a smile that consumed half of her face.

"Really?" He asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course not." She told him as she moved closer to him. He didn't blink, afraid he'd miss what he was pretty sure she was about to do if he did.

Miley placed her hands on his chest, looked into his eyes, and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his as her fingers slid down to the hem of his shirt. He kissed her back and raised his arms as she pulled his shirt over his head. He tried not to seem too eager as he yanked hers off and pushed her back toward the bed. She struggled with the zipper on his jeans, distracted by the feeling of his lips on her neck. He reached down to help her, and soon they were both sitting on the bed in their underwear, kissing like they'd die if their lips stopped touching.

Oliver's hands left Miley's neck and made their way to the clasp on her bra. He had it off in seconds, and didn't even stop to look. All he wanted was to get as close to her as possible.

"I love you." He breathed, every inch of his sweaty skin sticking to hers.

"I know you do." She whispered back, as she finally gave herself to him.

...

For the first time ever (that he knew of) Oliver woke up before Miley did. She was sleeping soundly, her arms stretching out over the edge of the bed with her face resting between them and her hair covering it all. The blanket over top of her was ever so conveniently positioned in a way that made this picture PG-13. She let out a moan and rolled over onto her back, ruining that by letting the blanket slide down and expose her.

Oliver was a guy. Of course he stared. He stared and he stared and he stared, thinking about how beautiful she was. How did he ever get someone like her? How had she ever agreed to do this with him? How on Earth could she love him as much as he loved her?

She yawned and pulled the blanket up, sliding closer to Oliver. Her bare shoulder touched his, and she pressed her head to his shoulder. He knew she was awake when she smiled, as he placed his arm around her.

"It's really hot in here." She commented, wiping her still-sweaty face with the back of her hand.

"It's just you."

"Very funny."

"It's the truth." Oliver told her, sitting up just as a knock at the door interrupted them. Miley groaned and climbed out of the bed, picking Oliver's only button-up shirt up off the floor, and, completing the image, pulled it on. She slowly left the room, buttoning it up as she went. Oliver found himself staring after her instead of getting dressed, like he should have been doing.

Oliver pulled his boxers back on and left the room pulling his shorts on over them just as Miley opened the door.

"Lilly?...Jackson?" She said warily. Oliver looked up to see the nervous expressions on both Lilly's and Miley's brother's faces.

"Oh, umm...come in." She said, inviting them out of the hallway and into the apartment. Lilly and Jackson sat next to each other on the couch, and Miley started to sit down in the recliner beside it, when she looked down at what she was wearing. "I, uhh..I'll be right back." She said, racing to her bedroom to put on some clothes.

Oliver ran his fingers through his hair – It was no doubt extremely messy -and awkwardly sat down in the chair Miley'd been about to sit in. He knew that Jackson knew what they'd been doing, and it made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

Miley came back out to the living room wearing a T-shirt Oliver recognized as one of his, and a pair of shorts he also knew were his. He didn't really see how wearing his clothes made her look any better, but he didn't say anything.

Miley sat down on Oliver's lap and asked,

"So why are y'all here?"

"Ummm..." Jackson started to say.

"We're getting married." Lilly finished for him.

"WHAT?" Miley shouted, shocked. "Why? Since when? What? Huh?" She was obviously incredibly confused, as was Oliver. He just sat there with his jaw practically resting in his lap. Neither of them had known Lilly and Jackson were even together.

"Becuase, I...uhhh..." This time Jackson finished for Lilly.

"Lilly's pregnant."

* * *

**_It would be greatly appreciated if you were to, oh, I don't know, click the little button for me? A tiny little review would be incredibly encouraging...Who knows...it might take me less than a month to write the next chapter. =) _**

**_Again, thank you SO much for all the nominations. I love you guys. _**


	16. Chapter 16

**_Hi. Yeah. I know. It's been too long. Don't hurt me, please._**

**_I was really sick for a little over a week, and I still have a cold, so that's my excuse this time. Work is finished now though until spring, so I should be able to update more often. Maybe._**

**_There's a couple things I keep forgetting to mention._**

**_1. In this story, Oliver does not have diabetes. Not because there's anything wrong with that - because there isn't - but because I sort of forgot about it, and adding it now would not make very much sense._**

**_2. Oliver and Lilly's relationship did not get anywhere near as far as it did in the show, in this story. Let's just pretend that it ended after What I Don't Like About You._**

**_Big thanks to everybody that reads/reviews/favorites/alerts._**

* * *

"Oh my God. What if she's dead?"

"She's not dead."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"But what if you're wrong?"

"I'm not wrong!"

"How do you know?"

"Guys..."

"I just know things."

"How?"

"The same way _you_ know things!"

"Who said I know things?"

"The people who let you graduate, maybe?"

"Guys? She's-"

"Maybe I bribed them."

"No amount of money will get a college to let you graduate if you're not smart enough."

"How do you know?

"Didn't we already go over this?"

"Maybe we did, maybe we didn't. All I'm saying is my sister's Hannah Montana, and I may be wrong, but I'm pretty sure she has a _lot _of money. Money gets you things. Nice things."

"Guys!"

"You can't steal her money!"

"I never said I was going to!"

"Yes you did!"

"Oliver! Jackson! Can you please stop arguing? Miley's-"

"Dead! I'm gonna go to prison! I'm too young to go to jail! I have a _sort of_ bright future ahead of me! At least my dad says so... I don't wanna get the death penalty, what are we gonna do?"

"WILL YOU SHUT UP ALREADY? I'M NOT DEAD!"Miley yelled, interrupting Jackson's meltdown and ending the argument he was having with Oliver.

"Oh. Well that's good." Jackson said, standing up, embarrassed. He straightened his shirt, looked around, licked his lips and asked, "So, uh...you okay?"

"Consciousness-wise, yes. But the fact that my _brother _impregnated my _best friend_? No. Not okay."

"Umm..." Lilly got up off of the floor, where she'd been kneeling beside Miley after she'd passed out in shock, and sat back down on the couch. The look on her face suggested that she was scared to death. Miley sighed and got up off the floor, taking Oliver's hand when he extended it to help her up. She took a seat beside her best friend and looked her right in the eyes.

"As _disgusted"_ Lilly flinched. "as I am...There's nothing I can do about it. So you might as well be happy." Miley glanced at her brother. "If that's possible." She added. Lilly stared at Miley with a blank expression on her face, and didn't say a word.

"What?" Miley asked cautiously, glancing down at her lap. She smoothed out 'her' shorts and crossed her legs, looking back up at Lilly.

"I'm just waiting for you to punch me in the face." Lilly said calmly.

"...Why would I punch you in the face?"

"I don't know. You looked like you hit your head pretty hard when you fainted. I learned in the Psych class I took last semester that a bump to the head can change your personality completely. Maybe you're violent now."

"If it'll make you feel better, I can do it." Miley offered with a sarcastic smile.

"Oh no thank you. I like my face the way it is."

"Jackson does too." Oliver chimed in. Lilly glared at him, and Miley rolled her eyes.

"What? Is that bad?" Jackson asked, confused. "I _do_ like your face the way it is." Lilly's cheeks turned red, and she replied,

"I like your face the way it is too." Miley and Oliver's face paled.

"Okay, enough of that. You two can go be sickening somewhere else."

"Sickening?" Lilly asked.

"Okay, fine. We'll leave you two to alone. To be sickening without us." Jackson said, glancing at Oliver.

"We're _not _sickening."

"Yeah, and pigs can fly." Jackson joked, turning toward the door.

"Well the Swine Flu-"

"That's not funny." Jackson said, spinning around.

"I thought it was." Oliver said awkwardly.

"Oliver? _Sweetie_," Miley looked right at her brother, smirking when she said it. "Can you go talk to Jackson in the hall?"

"In the hall? With no witnesses?"

"You'll be fine." She turned to Jackson and added, "Or else." She shooed them both out of the room, and waited for the door to close before she turned to face Lilly once more.

"So..."

"So..." Lilly repeated.

"Pregnant."

"Yeah." Lilly said awkwardly.

"That's a surprise."

"Yeah, I umm...wasn't expecting it."

"Wow. I'm shocked." Miley said. She couldn't seem to find the right words to say, so everything she said came out with the same surprised tone.

"I kind of got that, when you, you know, passed out." They were both quiet for a moment, until Lilly broke the silence. "Are you mad?"

"No. Just a little nauseous." Miley smiled and crossed her legs, the embarrassed expression from earlier reappearing on her face.

"I...ummm...So...you and Oliver...you..."

"Yeah, we umm...yeah."

"So you guys are really serious?" Lilly asked, a smile on her face now, as she noticed the embarrassed one on her friend's face. Lilly found joy in embarrassing her best friend. Miley nodded, and her smile grew.

"Do you want pie?"

"What kind of pie?" Lilly asked excitedly, standing up.

"Whatever kind you want. Oliver doesn't need any more. He's getting a little, umm...chubby."

"His loss, my gain." Lilly smiled, taking the plate Miley was holding out.

"He'll never know you took it." Miley said, grinning as she took out an extra paper plate and placed it beneath the one the pie was on, for extra support. They were both silent for a moment, while Miley took out the Saran wrap, until she added, "Okay, he _will_ notice. But I'll cover for you. I'll say I ate it."

"What if he doesn't believe you?"

"I'll make him believe me." Miley said, smirking as she wrapped the plate of pie.

"...I don't want to know what you mean by that."

"You're right. You don't." Lilly slowly reached for her pie, a blank expression on her face. Miley pulled it out of her reach just as Lilly's fingers caught the edge of the plate. Lilly took a step forward, and Miley pulled it out of her reach again. Lilly sighed, and lunged at her pie when she thought Miley wasn't expecting it, but was proved wrong when Miley held it above her head.

"Oh come on. That's not fair!"

"It's not my fault you're short." Miley said, smiling.

"I'm not short. You're just freakishly tall." Lilly said, frowning as she crossed her arms.

"I am _not _freakishly tall. I'm a normal height, thank you very much."

"Well then, you can keep the pie. Let your lover get fat. See if I care." Miley sighed, rolled her eyes, and handed Lilly her dessert.

"You're no fun." Lilly simply smiled, holding her pie close to her, just in case Miley tried to take it from her again.

"Hey, you wanna go bowling this weekend? It seems like its been forever since we spent any time together."

"Yeah, sure. I haven't gone bowling in _forever." _

"No eleven year olds this time." Lilly said with a laugh, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Eleven and _three quarters._"

"Same thing."

"Don't remind me." Miley told her, sliding the drawer the Saran wrap had been in shut.

"Well I should get going. We still have to tell my grandma." Lilly said, the tone of her voice suggesting she was terrified.

"_Ooh..._Well good luck with that."

"If she kills me can you tell my mom I love her?"

"Lilly, your grandma can't even use the bathroom without help. How would she kill you?"

"You'd be surprised what she can do when she's angry." Lilly said quietly, her eyes the size of golf balls as she thought about it.

"You'll be fine." Miley said, smiling despite Lilly's obvious terror. She pulled her friend into a hug.

"I'm scared, Miley. I can't be a mom yet. I still live with mine! I'm not ready to take care of someone else."

"You've got a while to get ready for that." Miley assured her, letting go.

"What if it's not long enough?" Lilly asked. Her eyes were turning red, as she tried not to cry.

"You got yourself in this situation Lilly." Miley said, softly.

"I know I did."

"But you're gonna have something great in the end. When you hold that baby for the first time, you'll know what to do. And even if you don't, you've got Jackson, and your parents, and I'll be there for you. And Oliver will too."

"How do you know all of this, Miley? How can you be so sure?"

"I've already had a kid. Ten, actually. Just call me Decamom. I hide them in my closet when people are around." Lilly rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh, but failed. "Okay, so that's not true. I just know things sometimes." She caught sight of the look on Lilly's face, and corrected herself. "Okay, maybe not that often. But I do know this."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay. I can do this." Lilly wiped her eyes and swallowed hard.

"You can." Miley agreed, grinning. Lilly took a deep breath and looked back up at Miley.

"I should get this over with." Miley simply nodded in response. Lilly stepped toward the door, and turned back around as her hand touched the doorknob. "Thank you Miley."

"No problem. Just remember, I'll always be here for you, no matter what." The two of them smiled at each other for a moment, before Lilly finally left, with Oliver coming back in through the open door as she was leaving.

"Was that my pie?" He asked, noticing what Lilly was carrying.

"No..."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Miley said, struggling to keep a straight face. Oliver stepped toward the refrigerator – he obviously didn't believe her.

"I'm gonna go take a shower. Do you want to help me?" Oliver's hand slipped off of the handle, and he forgot all about the pie.

"I would love to assist you." He said seriously. Miley smiled and held out her hand, dragging him into the bathroom with her once he took it.

Miley turned on the water and Oliver pulled the shirt that was rightfully his over her head. Her fingers grasped the hem of his shorts and pulled them down, boxers and all. His shorts were much to big for her, and came off easily, much to Oliver's convenience.

Miley stepped backwards, into the shower, pulling him in after her.

"AHH THAT'S REALLY COLD!" Oliver shouted when the water hit him. Miley immediately turned around and turned the handle slightly, to ensure Oliver's comfort.

"You suck at showering." He said, squinting as the hot water dripped from his sopping wet hair into his eyes.

"You're weak."

"Yeah, well you're..." He paused for a moment, trying to think of a worthy insult. "Really hot."

"You fail." She responded, smiling. He smoothed her wet hair back, and kissed her gently, pushing her against the wall. His hands slowly ran up and down her sides, while hers stayed glued to his chest, almost like they were magnetic and she was trying to pull him closer.

He pressed her against the wall even harder, and she let out a barely audible groan, while his lips made their way down her jaw, and down to her collarbone.

"Am I gonna get to wash my hair?" She asked him, her breathing loud enough to be heard over the sound of the water, while her voice struggled to do that.

"No, you're not."

…

Oliver laid on the couch with his eyes closed, his damp shirt sticking to his chest, while the ceiling fan blew on him. He could hear the hairdrier Miley was using in the bathroom. The noise suddenly stopped, and he could hear Miley talking, although he couldn't understand a single word she was saying. He assumed she wasn't talking to him, and went back to napping on the couch.

He was exhausted. It was only three o' clock, but he felt like he'd been awake for hours. He couldn't imagine how tired Miley must be. She'd been complaining about not getting enough sleep lately.

Her voice grew louder when she entered the living room ten minutes later, twirling a still damp strand of her hair around her finger.

"Oh I know. It's so weird." She smiled slightly, and sat down on Oliver's feet. He yanked them out from under her and sat up, pulling Miley into his lap.

"Yeah, and then the ostrich-" She laughed loudly, and did not help Oliver's confusion. "And he put the banana in-" She paused for a moment. Oliver could just barely hear the voice on the other end, so he couldn't tell who it was. "I know!" She grasped Oliver's hand and leaned back, resting against him. "Yeah...oh okay. Yeah, bye! Have fun!" She finally hung up the phone, and slid off of Oliver's lap.

"Who was that?"

"Your mom." She said, smirking. Oliver raised an eyebrow and nodded, a disbelieving expression on his face.

"Yeah, okay."

"No really. It was your mom."

"_You talk to my mom?_"

"Yes. Is that weird?" Miley asked him, sliding her phone into her pocket.

"A little bit."

"Well she called to talk to you. I guess _somebody _forgot to charge their phone again." She told him, getting up off the couch to find something to snack on.

"What did she want?" Oliver asked, remaining on the couch.

"I don't know. She didn't say. I guess she forgot."

"What were you talking about?" Miley looked over her shoulder at him, holding a salami in one hand and a jar of pickles in the other.

"Do you really want to know?"

"When you say it like that, no..."

…

"Here, get these. Are you happy?"

"What? No. We are not buying anything named after a computer virus." Miley insisted, placing her hands on her hips.

"Millions of other people do. This is the most popular brand in America, I'd think they'd be okay."

"If millions of other people jumped off a bridge would you do it?"

"Yes. If millions of people are doing it, there's got to be somebody that was smart enough to suggest a bungee cord." Miley rolled her eyes and ripped the box of Trojans from Oliver's hand, putting them back on the shelf and grabbing a different brand.

"Why are we even here?" Oliver complained.

"Did you forget already?"

"_No. _I just don't get why we need these."

"Have you never watched a Lifetime movie or read a copy of Seventeen magazine in your life? The pill is only 99% effective."

"So a 1% chance of having a kid with me is bad enough to make me buy these?" Miley rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair.

"_You_ don't have to buy them."

"Yes I do. That's the guy's job."

"No it's not. You're supposed to take turns. I have money, and you don't. So I go first."

"Or we could just save us both some money and forget about it. 1% really isn't that much. Unless you're trying to tell me something..."

"Can you not do that?" Miley asked him, extremely annoyed.

"Do what?" He asked.

"You're trying to make me feel guilty."

"I am not."

"Yes you are! It's not that I..." She stopped talking and turned on her heel, walking toward the register.

"You can't do that. Come back here. What were you saying?" Oliver asked, slightly annoyed. Miley turned around and wiped her eyes. She could use the oh so popular "Nothing" excuse, but she highly doubted he would accept that, so she might as well just say it.

"I was just saying..." She blinked the tears out of her eyes, and finished what she was saying. "It's not that I don't want to have a baby with you. I do. I can't imagine starting a family with anybody _but_ you. Just...not now."

"Miley, I..."

"Please don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad. I was just being a..." Oliver decided that finishing that sentence in this particular isle would make it seem like it was just a joke to him. He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry about it. With everything with Lilly and Jackson...now's not a good time anyway. I wasn't saying I wanted to, I just..."

"Okay. So you're not mad?" She asked, sniffling.

"Of course not."

"Good."

"Now let's get out of here." He said, taking her hand and squeezing it.

"I'm right behind you."

…

"Lilly, you _suck!" _

"I'm sorry! It's not my fault!" Lilly defended, as the ball went into the gutter for the umpteenth time.

"How do you go ten frames and not knock down at least one pin?" Jackson asked, laughing.

"It takes a lot of skill, doesn't it Lilly?" Miley asked, coming to the rescue as she stood up to take her turn.

"Yeah! I'm skilled." She sat down on the bench behind the computer that kept score, next to Jackson, with her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

Oliver stood up, trying to hide his laughter, and silently crept up behind Miley as she watched her bowling ball roll down the center of the lane. At the last second, the ball curved to the left, and didn't knock a single pin down. Miley spun around, and screamed, when she saw how close Oliver was to her.

"That's not funny! You scared me!" She shouted, smacking Oliver's chest repeatedly. He grabbed her by the sides and spun her around, getting her to stop hitting him. When he set her back down, she hit him one last time, and leaned against him while the room continued spinning.

"Do that again and I'll throw this bowling ball at your head." She threatened, grabbing her ball as it came back up.

"You really think you could throw it this far?" Oliver teased, walking back to their table to take another drink of his Mountain Dew.

"Do you want to see me try?" Miley called over her shoulder, as she got ready to finish her turn.

"No, not really." He replied.

"Please don't." Lilly and Jackson said in unison, with Miley's bad aim in mind. Lilly and Jackson looked at each other and laughed, with Oliver joining in. Miley was too busy watching her bowling ball roll down the lane it's second time to find the timing of their responses funny.

"That was really weird." Oliver said, sitting down beside Lilly on the bench.

"Yes!" Miley shouted, jumping up and down. She turned around to see Oliver, Lilly, and Jackson all staring at her. "What? I knocked them all down. I can cheer if I want to!" She sat down in Jackson's spot with a similar expression to the one Lilly had been wearing at the end of her turn.

Jackson, being the expert bowler – with insanely good luck - that he was, knocked down every single pin in one try, and returned to the bench with everybody else glaring at him.

"What, was I supposed to pull a Lilly?"

"Pull a Lilly? What's that supposed to mean?" Lilly asked, (most likely) faking offense.

"A Lilly is the new gutter ball." Jackson said smiling.

"Is it? Is it really?" Lilly asked him calmly. Miley looked at Oliver, and as if they could read each others minds, they nodded at the same exact time, stood up, and left the two unexpected lovebirds alone to quarrel.

They started a new game and got away from Lilly and Jackson's never ending argument over Lilly's terrible bowling ability. Miley stood behind the ball return and watched as Oliver took his turn. The ball rolled down the lane, a little too far to the right, and curved just enough toward the end to hit the front pin, sending nine of the bowling pins flying. They watched in anticipation as the tenth pin wobbled , nearly falling over. In the end though, the pin stayed upright, and Oliver let out a disappointed sigh.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked Miley, when he caught her laughing at him.

"Nothing." She said, grinning because she knew that he was well aware that she was lying.

"At least I knocked a pin down on my first try."

"Well at least I can knock all ten down at once."

"It doesn't matter if it's not on the first try."

"Yes it does. It was your fault I got a gutter ball the first time anyway."

"No it wasn't. You didn't even know I was there until after you bowled."

"It was your presence. You cursed it."

"I did not." Oliver argued, crossing his arms. His bowling ball had returned already, but he ignored it.

"You did too." Miley said, smiling.

"Well if I'm so evil maybe I should go live with Mrs. Donnelly. I'm sure her cats would accept me."

"I wouldn't want that." Miley said, kissing him."And I'm pretty sure they wouldn't."

"Good. I didn't want to go anyway."

"Good. I wouldn't have let you." He returned her kiss, and was about to suggest that he finish his turn, when Miley pulled away, with a look on her face that suggested she was dying laughing on the inside. Oliver turned around to find a large group of wide-eyed children standing behind him, there for an 8 year old's birthday party.

"We were here first." He said, finally getting ready to bowl a second time.

"Don't argue with the second graders, baby." Miley said, pulling her lips in, so that she didn't smile.

Oliver ended up missing the last pin, and he went to sit and sulk on the bench with Jackson, while Miley stayed by the ball return to watch Lilly fail miserably yet again.

Lilly's ball rolled slowly down the lane, and just as the bowling ball neared the pins, the song playing in the bowling alley changed.

"Ooh I love this song!" Lilly said, turning to Miley just as her ball struck the center pin and knocked every single one down.

"Lilly!" Miley shouted, shocked.

"What? I missed it?"

"You got a strike!" Miley cheered happily, grabbing Lilly's hands and dancing with her in celebration. Oliver watched the two of them dance together until the song ended, keeping his eyes on Miley.

"I know what you're thinking." Jackson said, noticing how out of it Oliver was.

"Huh? What?"

"I _said_, I know what you're thinking. Keep it PG, man."

"How do you know it wasn't?" Oliver asked him.

"I just do." Jackson assured him, paying absolutely no attention to his fiance or sister, by now.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"How do you know, can you read minds?"

"...Yes." Jackson said, going along with it.

"Then what am I thinking about right now?"

"I don't know. It comes and goes, you see..."

"Ohh, so that's how that works." Oliver said, nodding to himself as he turned back to Miley and Lilly, who were _still _dancing.

"Stop thinking that, it's gross." Jackson said loudly, interrupting Oliver's thoughts again.

"I wasn't thinking anything!"

"Yes you were. You were thinking about my sister."

"She's my girlfriend, I'm allowed to think about her." Oliver defended himself, wondering when Lilly was going to come back and get rid of Jackson.

"Not like that!"

"Maybe I'm thinking about her hair."

"I don't wanna know what you wanna do to her hair."

"What could I do to her _hair_?" Oliver asked, getting annoyed.

"I don't know, but I'm sure you could think of something."

"What are you trying to say, Jackson?"

"Just remember, she's my sister."

"I know that."

"My sister doesn't need any STDs, okay?"

"If she got one, it would _so _not be my fault."

"No bruises. Nothing like that."

"I would never hit her."

"You better not." Jackson said crossly.

"You know me Jackson. What makes you think I would ever-"

"I was just messing with you." Jackson laughed, slapping Oliver on the back. "I do that to all Miley's boyfriends." He told him. The disappearance of his smile and it's replacement with an embarrassed expression said otherwise

"Do you?" Oliver mumbled, incredibly confused.

"I was serious though."

"Yeah, yeah I got you. No STDs" he held up one finger, " and no hitting." He held up a second finger. "Anything else?"

"Nothing I can think of." Oliver nodded in agreement, turning back to their lane and noticing that Miley and Lilly were gone. He looked around and found them at the snack bar, getting some nachos.

"So...does this mind reading thing run in your family?"

"Nope. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Good."

…

"That was fun." Miley commented as she set her purse down on the kitchen counter.

"Yeah."

"Who knew you'd end up the King of Bowling?" Miley said, smiling.

"I did." Oliver replied confidently.

"Do you want to order take out?" Miley asked, opening the drawer she kept all of her take out menus in. "I'm hungry."

"Sure." Oliver agreed, taking the stack of menus from Miley's hand. He flipped through them, trying to decide what he wanted. "How about Mexican? We haven't had that in a while."

"Mmm. Yeah, tacos sound good." Miley coincided. "You call this time." She smiled sweetly and handed him her phone, since she knew his was dead once again. Oliver made the call while Miley was using the bathroom, and was hanging up just as she came out. He closed her phone and set it on the counter.

"Your order has been called in. The food'll be ready in 40 minutes. What now?"

…

"Come and get it!" Miley sang as she came back into the bedroom, carrying the takeout containers. "No, wait, I'll bring it to you." She added, smiling as she set the food on the bed, tossed her robe on the floor and crawled back into bed with him. He slid his right arm around her, and used his left to reach for his food, in order to satisfy his growling stomach.

"Mmmm." Miley hummed, as she took a bite of her taco. Some of the lettuce fell out of it, onto the blanket covering her. "This is messy."

"_You're_ messy."

"No, sweetie, I'm _Miley._"

"Thanks for correcting me." Oliver said, his eye rolling canceling out the smile on his face.

"No problem." She told him, taking another bite.

"Miley?"

"Mmhmm? She responded, with her mouth full of taco.

"What do you think of marriage?"

"...What do you mean?"

"Like...are you one of those people that thinks you need a marriage license to be happy with someone?"

"Not necessarily." She answered, taking one last bite of her first taco. "But I would like to get married someday. It's just kind of a part of life, you know?"

"Yeah." He agreed quietly, lost in thought.

"Why do you ask?" She didn't reach for another taco. She was too nervous to move.

"Would you want to get married? You and I?"

"...Are you asking me to marry you?" Miley asked, shocked.

"Maybe." Oliver answered nervously.

Miley's heart stopped. Or at least, it seemed like it did. And now it was doing jumping jacks, and backflips, and running laps inside of her. She couldn't even talk. She didn't even want to try. What if nothing came out? It was at least worth trying, wasn't it? The physical exertion it took to force herself to talk seemed like it would be too much for her excited heart, but she had to say something.

"Then maybe my answer is yes."


	17. Chapter 17

**_Hey everyone. This chapter would have been up sooner...I had half of it finished within two days of posting the last one...but I got sick again. My immune system pretty much hates me. I'm pretty much better now though. For the time being._**

**_This chapter umm...wades into the M pool...And it's all Snickers3339 and Broken Oken's fault! Yeah Kaylee, I'm blaming you too. You sided with Theresa and threatened me, although you may not remember since it was so long ago... And I guess I'll blame SVUlover. Don't wanna leave her out._**

**So yes. Beware. There's only one scene really that's bad. The Scene. :) It's not all that long...you can skip it if you really want to. You'll know when it's coming.**

**Thank you everybody for reading. :) And I apologize for how long this chapter is. Apparently long chapters are bad. I've taken to reading SWAC fanfiction lately, and people apologize for "long" chapters all the time. Their kind of long is 3000 words. My kind of long is this chapter. 9,432 words, according to the FF word count, which isn't exactly accurate...**

The smile on Oliver's face couldn't possibly get any bigger. He couldn't find the words to speak, and just sat there, grinning like an idiot for a couple of minutes. Miley took this opportunity to break off a piece of the taco she'd just picked up and stuff it into his mouth. He swallowed it – he wasn't going to waste a perfectly good taco – and pulled her toward him, burying her face in his chest.

"I, uhh..." He started to say, letting go of her. Miley sat up and brushed her hair out of her face. "It'll be a while before I can get you a ring."

"That's okay." She said softly, touching his face. She used her thumb to move a strand of his hair out of his eyes. "I could wear a rubber band around my finger for the rest of my life. I just want you, baby." She leaned forward to kiss him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her down on top of him again. She rested her head on his chest for a few minutes, and neither of them said anything.

"I applied at that restaurant down by Lilly's mom's house. I have an interview tomorrow."

"The one across from the laundromat?" She asked, pressing her lips against his skin. "That's a good idea."

"I figured it'd be a good idea to get a job. I don't want to depend on you my whole life, and I think we both know my chances of getting a record deal." Miley frowned for a moment, and then told him,

"If I had a record company I'd give you one." Oliver laughed, and started gently rubbing her arm.

"I think that's bribery."

"Is it?"

"Other people would see it that way, if I was sleeping with the boss and got a contract."

"Good point... They wouldn't have to know." She said with a slight smile.

"They _would_ know though."

"You're right." Miley said, grinning. "We're so obvious." She wormed her way out of his arms and threw back the covers. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, but didn't move any further. Oliver sat up and moved behind her, letting his feet fall to the floor right outside of where Miley's toes were just barely touching it. Her legs weren't quite long enough to reach all the way.

Oliver wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up against his chest.

"I love you." He said, kissing her cheek.

"I love you too." She told him, turning as far to her left as she could. "_So, so_ much." She pulled her left leg through the space between them and wrapped it, along with her right leg, around him. "You're gonna be here forever, aren't you?" She asked, setting her chin on his shoulder.

"Of course I am." He replied, running his hand up and down her spine.

"Good." Miley smiled and kissed his neck, before shoving him back on the bed. She pulled her legs out from underneath and pushed herself off of him, kissing him one last time before she finally got out of the bed.

"It's dark out." Oliver commented, as Miley pulled open her closet doors.

"Great observation, babe."

"If we turn out the lights, nobody would even notice if we just walked around naked."

Miley turned to look at him, holding a t shirt. She smiled, and told him,

"I live on the top floor. Nobody would see us do anything." He raised a suggestive eyebrow, and she gave in, tossing the t shirt on the floor of her closet and throwing her arms up. "Fine. But when I freeze and get Pneumonia, I'm blaming you."

"I'll visit you in the hospital."

"You better." She grabbed the remains of their dinner and took them into the kitchen to throw them away, just as Oliver turned on the stereo. She spun around when she recognized the song, and exclaimed, "I love this song! How did you know?"

"I didn't. That was just a big fat coincidence." She met him next to the radio and held her hands up. He pressed his hands against them, and wove his fingers between hers. Together, they began to sway back and forth in time with the music. His hands dropped to her waist and hers twisted around his neck.

"Dancing naked right next to a window. Aren't we rebellious?" She stated, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"If anybody's looking, it's their own fault. They're invading our privacy." He told her, laughing. She nodded happily in agreement.

The song slowly came to it's end, but Miley and Oliver kept slow dancing into the next one, even though it was much faster paced.

"We're bad dancers." Oliver commented, staring into Miley's tired eyes.

"I've always been a bad dancer."

"You do the Bedroom Tango pretty well." Miley stopped dancing and started laughing so loudly, she sounded like she was about to choke to death. She bent over and rested her hands on her knees, while she caught her breath.

"It wasn't _that_ funny."

"I'm sorry." She said, hardly intelligible because of her laughter. She fell down on the floor and stretched out, just breathing now. "I need to sleep. I can't..." She never finished her sentence, as she'd apparently fallen asleep right there on the floor.

Oliver bent down to help her up, and she seemed conscious enough to stand up on her own, even though she was now completely out of it, so she was able to do something relatively similar to a walk.

He steered her toward their bedroom and helped her get dressed and get in bed. She'd been mumbling nonsense the whole time now, and it grew quieter once he'd pulled the covers up over her.

"Please." She mumbled quietly.

"Thank you." He replied, smiling. "Somebody's tired."

"No I'm awake." She lied, turning on her side. Oliver tried not to laugh, as he quietly left the room and entered the guest room to get dressed, since while they now shared a bedroom, Oliver's belongings had not joined Miley's, and still remained in their original place. He pulled on a t shirt and a pair of boxers, went to get a drink of water, and joined Miley in bed, falling asleep almost as quickly as she had.

_This was a stupid dream. Why was he standing in the middle of a forest? He hadn't thought about so much as a piece of paper, let alone a forest, in a long time. And what the heck was that lion doing here? And why was it looking at him like that? Why was it running at him? Why was it tackling him? Why was it...licking him? Why wasn't it killing him? Why did it feel so heavy?_

Oliver woke up and the weight of the lion had not gone away. He could still feel its hair on him. Wait, no. That was _Miley_'s hair. What was she doing?

As Oliver entered a more conscious state, he realized that she was on top of him, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Good morning." She said, almost as if this were normal.

"Good...morning?" He replied, his confusion showing in his voice as his fiancee – God, that sounded so good – pressed her lips to his collarbone. "What the heck are you doing?" was the question running through his mind, but he didn't dare stop her and ask. He'd have to be a complete moron to do that.

"You don't mind, do you?" She asked, noticing how tense he'd gotten.

"Oh, no. You go right on ahead." She smirked and moved her kisses lower and lower. Her head disappeared beneath the blanket as her lips moved dangerously low. He grew even more stiff, and nearly had a heart attack when her fingers grasped the elastic of his boxers and yanked them all the way down. Her tongue slowly glided from his lower stomach up to his navel, and then her fingers were on him, rubbing gently, massaging him. He was harder than a diamond now, but he kept quiet. Miley's hands met with his inner thighs and pushed them apart slightly, and then he was in her mouth. He felt like he was going to explode, as her lips slowly slid down him, moving back up to the top and starting over, once she reached the bottom. Her hands were still attached to his thighs, and her fingers were moving in small circles, massaging him. He was pretty sure he was about to explode. Any second now his body parts would be flying in every direction and somebody would have to put him back together in the emergency room. The first sound he made was a groan, as that feeling finally disappeared. She pushed against his hips, and released him, just as her phone started to ring.

The top of Miley's head appeared again, and she rolled off of him, ran for the phone, and took it into the bathroom with her. She spit in the sink, swished some water around in her mouth, and finally answered the phone without looking at the name on the screen.

"Hello?" She asked, sitting down on the edge of the toilet.

"Miley...it's Travis." She tried to catch her breath before she responded. The flow of oxygen to her brain was practically nonexistent, at the moment, and she could hardly think to say anything.

"You sound really out of breath. Are you okay?" She ignored his question, and asked him one of her own instead.

"Why are you calling me? How did you get my number?"

"I...I'm just calling to apologize. I won't call you again. I'll delete your number as soon as I hang up, if you want."

"Well you might as well do that now." She told him bitterly, crossing her legs.

"No Miley wait. Just hear me out."

"I don't want to hear about how you're in love with me, or that you want me to-"

"Miley I know I have no chance with you anymore. I know you're happy with him, I just...I feel really bad about what I did to you."

"You should."

"I know it's not an excuse, but I sort of, ummm...have a problem with alcohol. I lost my job because of it. That's why I'm still working for your grandma. And I've been told that when I drink I turn into a huge pervert... So I'm really sorry." Miley didn't say anything. She didn't know how to respond to that. "Miley? Are you still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. I just...when did this start?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does!" She would have shouted it, but she was pretty sure Oliver could hear her if she spoke any louder.

"Fine. It started when you left. I don't blame you though, so you really don't need to worry about it."

"How can I not worry about it?" She hissed, trying to keep her voice down.

"Is he listening?

"No." She answered, not sure if it was true or not, since the bathroom door was shut.

"Then why are you talking like that?"

"Because I want to keep this conversation between you and me."

"Because he'd be mad if he knew you were talking to me?" Travis asked, almost hopeful.

"No. He wouldn't care. He loves me." Of this, Miley was one hundred percent sure.

"Does he?"

"And I love him. We're getting married." She wasn't sure why she'd told him that. She regretted opening her mouth almost instantly. Her entire family would find out through her ex boyfriend. That was definitely not how she'd planned it.

"Oh...you're getting married. Wow."

"Your apology is accepted." She said, changing the subject back. "I'm sorry Travis. I didn't mean to ruin your life."

"You didn't ruin my life. _I_ ruined my life. And it's not too late to turn it around yet."

"You ruined it _because_ of me. I still feel bad."

"You don't have to." He said quietly.

"You know I will though."

"Thanks for listening." He told her.

"Thanks for apologizing." She replied, looking down at her toes.

"Congratulations. I forgot to say that earlier."

"Thanks. It'll all work out for you, Travis. You'll find someone. You'll get through it. You're a great guy, and you've got a lot ahead of you."

"Thanks Miley. I should probably go."

"Yeah, me too." She said quietly. "Travis, you don't have to delete my number if you don't want to."

"It would probably be best if I did. It'd be easier that way."

"You're probably right." She agreed quietly. "I'm sorry about how things ended between us. I should have talked to you about it."

"It's all in the past Miley. There's no use worrying about it now. It's fine."

"I just wanted you to know."

"I have to go. You're a great girl, Miley. Oliver's a lucky guy." There was a click, and then complete silence, signaling that he'd hung up before she had the chance to say goodbye.

Miley sat there for a while, staring at her feet, thinking about how guilty she was. He was wrong. She wasn't a great girl. She was terrible. She was dirty. If he'd known what she'd done to Oliver right before he called, he wouldn't have been so quick to say that. He certainly wouldn't have talked to her as long as he had.

She turned on the faucet in the bathtub – not feeling up to a shower - and let it fill up while she brushed her teeth. She stared into the sink as her toothpaste washed down the drain, and then looked back up at her reflection in the mirror. She looked sweaty. The makeup she hadn't bothered washing off last night was smeared. She looked gross. How could Oliver possibly stand her when she looked like this? Her teeth were disgusting. How could he want her nasty mouth anywhere near him? Her hair looked like a family of rats lived in it. She was so gross. Why did he love her? It wasn't like she was beautiful on the inside.

These were the kind of thoughts she wasn't supposed to be having. Dr. Lennox would not be too happy with her right now.

Miley turned off the water and took her clothes off. She stepped into the bathtub hesitantly, knowing fully well how hot the water was. She sat down in the burning water, and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Her chin fit almost perfectly in the space between her knees.

Oliver was probably wondering what she was doing in here. He probably thought he'd done something. She didn't want to leave him out there alone, thinking he had done something wrong, but she also didn't want to leave the bathroom or explain anything.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, there was a knock at the door.

"Miley? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She answered quietly. He didn't find that to be a good enough answer. The door opened and he was standing there in the doorway. He had his boxers back on now, but his shirt was still missing. He sat down next to the bathtub, on the floor, and raised an eyebrow, asking her what was wrong without saying a single word.

"It's nothing." She answered. "I just don't feel good today."

Oliver shed his boxers and climbed into the bathtub with her, flinching as his foot hit the hot water. He pulled the shower curtain shut, and sat down beside her, copying her position. Her face turned red, and whether it was from trying not to cry, or from the heat of the water was unsure.

"Who was on the phone?" He finally asked. Every part of Miley wanted to lie to him, but she couldn't do that.

"Travis." Oliver's fingers twitched, like he was trying not to clench his fist.

"What did he want?"

"To apologize." She told him. Tears started leaking from her eyes, but she didn't try to wipe them. Oliver slid his arm around her, and pulled her up against him. She rested her head on his shoulder, and started crying harder.

"I ruined his life, Oliver. He's an alcoholic because of me."

"He's an alcoholic because of him."

"He said the same thing, but I just can't...I can't make myself believe it." Oliver moved so that his back was against the wall facing the shower head, and pulled Miley into his lap. "Why do you love me?" She asked him, curling up in his arms.

"Why wouldn't I?" Miley buried her face in his neck, and didn't say anything. "You're beautiful." He started. "Inside and out. You're funny and you're talented. You're honest. You don't hide who you are. You're a lot of fun. You care a lot more than most people do. You're an amazing bowler. When we go get ice cream and you ask for no nuts, but they put them on your sundae anyway, you don't yell at the person who made it. You hold doors open for people, and I've seen you help an old lady across the street before. You do my laundry for me and I don't even have to ask. You make the best sandwiches ever. You don't have road rage. You don't lie to me. You know I can see right through you. You always smell really good." He slowly ran his hand up and down Miley's back, pausing not because he couldn't think of more, but because he needed to take a breathe, in order to continue listing them. "You have great tastes in lotion. Your skin feels amazing. You know exactly how to make me feel terrible when you're mad at me, and you know how to make me feel like the most important man in the world when you love me. I almost die and go to Heaven every time I'm with you, whether we're making love or just watching TV together. You don't question me about everything I do. You're supportive. You believe in me. You're my best friend. It's impossible to not love you, so I have to."

Miley wiped away her tears, as they kept coming, and grabbed his hand. She lined them up and took notice of how much bigger his hands were than hers.

"I don't know what I'd do without you_._" She told him, pressing her lips to his and kissing him as hard as she possibly could.

"You brushed your teeth, right?" He asked awkwardly, when she pulled away.

"Of course I did." She answered, resting her cheek against his chest.

"...I wasn't telling you to stop."

…

"You can't sleep either?" Miley's voice echoed through the living room as she appeared behind Oliver, who was sprawled across the couch watching TV, with the volume turned down low.

"Yeah." He answered, sitting up to make room for her. She sat down next to him and stared at the TV for a moment, before asking,

"Is anything good on?"

"It's 3 AM. What do you think?"

"I take it that's a no." She replied, yawning.

"Still tired?" She shot him a look, and he realized how stupid of a question that was, as she was always tired.

Miley got off of the couch and wandered into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. She leaned against the counter top, staring across the room at Oliver, who remained on the couch.

"Wanna play a game?" She asked, grabbing a stack of cards from the basket sitting in the center.

"What kind of game?" Oliver asked, wiping his eyes. Miley took the stack of cards and her glass of water back to the couch, and sat down between Oliver's legs, on the floor. She set her glass on the coffee table, and replied,

"I don't know. Any suggestions?"

"Something that doesn't require thinking?" Oliver said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head before he got off of the couch and sat on the floor across from her.

"What about Go Fish?"

"I haven't played in years. You'll have to remind me how." He said, nodding in agreement.

Miley smiled and dumped the cards out of the box and into her hand. She started to shuffle them, and stopped when she noticed Oliver staring.

"It's a family thing. We used to play a lot of card games when I was younger. I've been shuffling cards since I was four."

"I'm jealous. I still can't shuffle."

She tossed seven cards his way and dealt seven of her own, before placing the remaining cards between them.

"Do you have any threes?" She asked, starting the game once she'd sorted her cards.

"Yes." Oliver said, handing her one of his cards.

"Do you have any ones?" Oliver questioned, taking his turn.

"Go. Fish." Miley answered, grinning.

"I already suck at this game!" Oliver complained, taking his card.

"Don't worry, you have a lot of other talents." Miley said, raising a knowing eyebrow.

"Do you have any sixes?" He asked, once he could concentrate again.

"Nope. Go fish." Oliver sighed and took another card from the stack. "Do you have any nines?" Miley questioned.

"Yes." He grumbled, giving her two of his cards. She grinned and set down another group of cards.

"I'm gonna win."

"No you're not. I'm gonna make a comeback."

"Yeah, sure you are." Miley said, rolling her eyes.

"I am." He told her, staring at her with his eyes wide open.

"No you're not. I'm going to win." She assured him, staring right back.

Neither of them said anything for another minute, too caught up in their staring contest to distract themselves.

"Ha! You lose!" Oliver shouted, when Miley finally blinked. She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"That's not fair."

"How is that not fair?" Oliver asked, glaring right back at her.

"I don't know. It just isn't." He smiled and looked back down at the cards in his hand.

"Whose turn was it?"

"I think it was yours." Miley answered, leaning against the couch behind her. She reached for the glass of water on the coffee table, and took a drink from it while she waited for Oliver to decide what he wanted to ask for.

"Do you have any fours?" He asked, while Miley set her glass down too close to the edge of the coffee table. It fell off of the table and spilled, just as she started to answer him.

"Go fi- Oh crap." Miley sighed and stood up to get a towel. She yanked one off of the handle of the oven, and went back to the spill to clean it up, just as her phone interrupted them once again. She sighed and answered it, still holding the towel. Oliver remained on the floor, watching her as her facial expression went through the entire spectrum of emotions. At first she seemed annoyed, upon getting a phone call at three in the morning, and then she seemed happy, when she discovered it was her grandmother. She suffered complete loss of expression for a moment, and confusion appeared for another, before it was replaced with shock, and then misery and guilt, crossing her face at the same time.

She dropped the towel and held out her arms, prompting Oliver to immediately stand up and fill the void between them. She buried her face in his chest and didn't say anything, but he didn't ask.

"That was my grandma." Miley finally whispered into his shirt. "Travis..." Oliver resisted the urge to squeeze her any harder, when she said his name. "Travis, he uhh...is in the hospital." She sobbed loudly and wiped her eyes. "He tried to kill himself."

"...What?" Oliver asked, surprised. Miley stepped back a little, still holding onto him.

"It's my fault, Oliver."

"Don't say that."

"You and I _both_ know it is. I told him about us this morning...he...he must have...Oh God." She tightened her grip on Oliver's arms. "I think I'm gonna pass out..."

"Well..sit down." He helped her to the couch, and she placed her head between her knees. "Take deep breaths."

"No Oliver, my first instinct is to not breathe."

"Well what else am I supposed to say?" Miley didn't answer him, and continued to breathe in and out deeply for a couple of minutes, before she sat up straighter.

"How..." Oliver awkwardly started to ask, "How did he-"

"He took sleeping pills with alcohol." Miley answered, before Oliver finished his question.

"Oh..." He wasn't sure what to say next, so he left it at that. Miley obviously didn't want to talk about it, and Oliver didn't know what else to do, so he just wrapped his arms around her and held on tightly.

"I'm gonna go to bed." She said, pulling away from him.

"Okay, I'll just..." He trailed off as she left the room, without any kind of goodnight.

Oliver sat in silence for a moment, before he finally got off of the couch and picked Miley's towel up off the ground. He knelt down on the carpet and set the towel where she'd spilled her water. The spot was mostly dry, and there was really no point in bothering, but that logic didn't enter Oliver's mind as he pounded his fist into the carpet.

…

"Miley?" Oliver whispered, trying to wake his fiancee gently. She groaned loudly, but didn't open her eyes. "Miley?" No response this time. "Miley. I'm leaving for my interview."

"Go away." She muttered, still completely out of it.

"I'll be back soon."

"Cheese." She rolled over so that her back was to him. "Cheese and pickles."

"Bye..." He said, as he turned to leave the room.

"Chewbacca." Oliver left the bedroom incredibly confused, but fortunately was able to focus by the time he arrived at the restaurant. He nervously parked Miley's car in the parking lot, and checked his watch. He still had ten minutes. Oliver stared across the street at the front doors of The Grace Gardens, wondering if he had even the slightest chance of getting a job inside. When he'd called, the manager had seemed extremely nice, unlike many of the other people he'd encountered in his job search. Maybe he had a chance here. It was possible. Miley thought so, at least. Miley was usually wrong, when it came to Oliver's career, but he had a feeling this time. Oliver walked into The Grace Gardens with this feeling, and left with a job.

…

"Guess who just lowered the rate of unemployment!" Oliver called through the apartment, in a sing song voice, when he arrived home. He didn't receive a verbal response, and was instead nearly knocked over when Miley leaped at him, wrapping her legs tightly around his torso and burying her face in his neck

"I'm so proud of you." She said, wearing a weak smile, once he put her down.

"It's nothing to be proud of. It's just a job." He told her, kissing her forehead gently.

"I'm still proud." She responded, pressing her lips to his. "I'm proud of everything you do. I wish I was more like you." He kissed her back and pulled her up against his chest even closer.

"I don't know if you want to say that." She didn't say anything, and just kissed him harder. He steered her into the kitchen, and lifted her onto the counter top, his lips leaving hers for only fractions of a second the whole time.

His mouth traveled to her neck, and she stopped moving. She held completely still for a moment, staring over his head while Oliver's wet lips migrated along her collarbone. It took him a moment to notice she wasn't quite as willing as she usually was, and when he finally did, he didn't exactly stop.

"What?" He asked, kissing the bottom of her neck. "Do you" His lips landed on the underside of her jaw. "not want to..." Oliver's mouth found it's way back to Miley's, and she was silent for a few seconds, still staring off into space, before another not-very-convincing smile appeared on her face.

"Of course I want to." She finally responded, kissing him hard. Her fingers crawled down his chest to the hem of his shirt, and she paused, keeping the kiss going for another few seconds, before she yanked the shirt over his head.

…

Oliver's first week on the job went extremely well. Having a job again made him feel much more useful, although Miley kept assuring him that she didn't mind taking care of him. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He felt like he actually had a chance.

Miley certainly missed having him around all the time, and she made that clear, but they both knew they wouldn't be able to spend every second of their lives together, and this was good for them.

And Oliver definitely wasn't going to complain about the amazing sex they had when he arrived home at night. He didn't know how, but somehow she got better and better every day, and she still somehow was perfectly okay with what she disagreed with, but he saw as his lesser abilities.

After a few weeks of this routine, things started changing. When Oliver would come home, he'd find Miley in bed, lying there in complete darkness, or on the couch covered in blankets. She'd stopped showering as often as she usually did, and would leave him to get his own food. She'd started losing weight, which he assumed meant she hadn't been getting herself food either. Compared to the girl she'd been two months ago, she'd done a complete 180. It seemed like she just didn't care anymore. She'd been a little different ever since she'd received that call about Travis, and Oliver had known that something was on her mind ever since then, and of course now that she spent much of her time alone in the apartment, while Oliver was at work, she had more time to think about it. He didn't ask her about it, though. He didn't want to upset her, and he figured it would go away on it's own. He'd obviously been wrong, and knew he had to confront her about it, or she'd only get worse, but he kept putting it off.

Each day she seemed less and less willing to be with him, and the things he was used to returning home to every day were held out of his reach. He didn't want to complain about the lack of sex – he'd needed a break anyway – but after a few more weeks it was completely nonexistent, and that was far from making him happy.

It was approximately two and a half months after Miley had got the phone call. It was the end of September, and Miley's birthday was approaching quickly. Oliver had already bought her present, but now he wasn't so sure she'd enjoy it.

On the last day of September, Oliver came home from work to find Miley in the bathtub, crying. She was fully clothed, and the tub was empty. The lights were out, and the only thing she had with her was a box of tissues, which she didn't appear to be using.

"You haven't been taking your meds." Oliver announced, joining her in the bathtub. He'd known for a few days now. It scared him, but he wasn't brave enough to bring it up, until now. He knew perfectly well how defensive she got about her medication.

"So." She replied, sniffling.

"Why don't you want to take them?"

"They don't help."

"I thought they did." Oliver told her. "I don't like seeing you like this, Miley. You need to take them."

"I don't want to. They make me feel worse." She looked up at him and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I tried to hide it from you. I can't pretend to be happy any longer."

"You shouldn't have to pretend. And I don't want you hiding it from me."

"I don't like pretending. I don't want to feel this way." She said, looking away.

"If they're not working you should talk to your doctor. I want you to be happy Miley." He whispered, turning her face back toward him. Her lips quivered, and she closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep the tears from coming.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be." She confessed.

"What makes you think that?" Oliver asked, pulling her into his lap.

"If I have to take drugs to be happy, then I'm just fooling everybody. It's a lie."

"Who cares? You're miserable when you're depressed, and if taking medication helps you feel better, it's nobody else's business. You're still you, Miley. You're not a different person. You're just...a better you."

"I..." She didn't finish her sentence, and fell silent.

"What are you gonna do?" He asked her quietly.

"I'm gonna go back. To Tennessee." She answered. "I have to."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." She told him, convincing herself more and more than it was the right thing to do.

"Okay." Oliver wasn't too happy about it, but if that's what she wanted to do, he'd let her go. Despite the uncomfortable feeling he had, he trusted her.

"Can you come with me?" She asked, the tone of her voice showing that she knew what the answer would be.

"No. I have to stay here. For work. I can't ask for very many days off yet." He told her. She sighed loudly and pushed back the shower curtain.

"I guess I knew that." She said, as she climbed out of the bathtub.

"When are you gonna go?"

"As soon as I can. I need to get it over with. I need some sort of closure." She decided out loud. Oliver simply nodded in response. He didn't know what else to tell her. "Are you okay with me going back? I won't go if you're uncomfortable with it."

"Go, Miley. Do whatever you want. Don't worry about me."

"I'll miss you." She told him, almost as if she was leaving at this exact moment.

"I'll be right here waiting when you get back."

…

At 4:50 PM on October 4th, Miley's plane landed in Tennessee. By 5:50, she was out of the airport and on her way to her grandmother's house, in her rental car. The roads were all so familiar, but the reason she was here was so much different than the last time.

She had the radio on and the window down, but even with the roar of the wind and the sound of the music, the car still seemed too quiet.

The crunch of the gravel as Miley pulled into the driveway made her shiver. She was a nervous wreck already. It took her a few minutes to build up the courage it took to get out of the car, and when she did, she couldn't make herself walk to the door. She stood in the driveway beside the red Chevy Malibu like an idiot for five minutes, waiting for her legs to move.

She finally made it to the door and knocked just loud enough for somebody to hear. Ruby answered the door almost immediately, wearing a weak smile.

"Miley." She greeted, holding her arms out to give her granddaughter a hug. Miley held onto her grandma a little longer than was necessary, in order to hold off the question she needed to ask.

"Is Travis here?" She'd known that Travis had moved in with her grandmother after he left the hospital. It had seemed to be what was best for the both of them. Her grandma was getting older, and Travis obviously couldn't live by himself for the time being, so they both helped each other with their new living arrangements.

"He's in the barn."

"Okay. I...maybe I'll talk to him later." Miley said, chickening out. "What have you been up to?" She asked her grandmother, distracting herself by starting a conversation with her grandma that she knew would last for hours.

…

It was dark out, and nearing 8 o'clock when Travis came back inside.

"Hey Ruby, whose car is that out-" He stopped speaking when he entered the living room and saw Miley curled up on the couch, watching the TV with her grandma. "Oh...Miley." He mumbled, putting a hand out against the wall to support himself.

"Travis." She greeted, wearing a sliver of a smile.

"Well sit down." Ruby ordered. Miley sat up and moved to the side of the couch closest to her grandma, giving Travis room. He uncomfortably say down beside Miley, wringing his hands in his lap.

"You were out there a long time today. Did you have a lot to do?" Ruby asked him, looking away from the TV for a split second.

"Not much more than usual. I just took my time today. I didn't have anything else to do." He answered awkwardly.

Miley didn't say anything, although she kept going over the things she wanted to in her head. She couldn't open her mouth. She could hardly move. Her body was incredibly tense, sitting this close to him.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, signaling that her alarm was going off, and excused herself from the room to go take her pills. She popped the birth control pill in her mouth with no problem, but when it came to the other one, she had some trouble. She wanted to be thinking straight when she spoke to Travis, – if that ever happened – but she wanted to remember why she'd gotten so emotional about this in the first place.

She thought about what Oliver had said to her before she'd left, and hesitantly swallowed the pill, before going back downstairs to join her grandma and first love in awkward silence.

Ruby and Travis again were the only ones who spoke, for the rest of the night, until Miley decided to go to bed, and left the two of them downstairs.

She called Oliver before she went to bed, and they spoke for an hour, before she finally climbed into her bed, alone.

The next morning, Miley woke up late and took her time to get ready. She helped her grandma get lunch ready, as she'd missed breakfast. She sat beside Travis at the table, but didn't say anything she knew she had to. She did, however, speak this time. Mostly about her trip, and what she'd done since the last time she'd been out. There wasn't much to say. At least, nothing she felt comfortable talking about in front of her grandma and Travis.

Travis went back outside after lunch, and Miley helped her grandma clean up lunch, before forcing herself to go after him.

She found Travis in the barn, sitting on the floor beside Blue Jeans' stall. He had a bridle in his lap, which she assumed he was supposed to be fixing.

She cleared her throat loudly, but he either ignored it, or didn't hear her.

"Travis." He looked up at her, and stood up, grabbing a wrench and pretending to tighten a bolt, although she could tell he was just trying to look busy.

"Look, I don't want to make this harder for you...I don't want to make it harder for me...but I can't...move on...without some kind of closure. And neither can you." She confessed, setting her hands on the stall gate.

"How do you suggest we do that?" He asked her, setting the wrench down.

"I don't know. I was hoping you'd have an idea." He wiped the sweat off his brow and turned to her.

"You being here ruins my progress. I was kind of moving on...but seeing you again...I'm right back where I started." He told her, a pained expression on his face

"This isn't easy for me either. But I had to come here and tell you in person how sorry I am. I never wanted things to end like this. It should have been so much easier. It is for everybody else. But I guess we're special, or something...because I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop thinking about how I treated you. I can't stop blaming myself for what you did..."

"It's not your fault."

"You know it is."

"Okay...it kind of is. But it's mostly my fault. I should be able to deal with a stupid breakup better than this. I don't know what makes this one different from any other relationship...but..."

"I've...had a lot of boyfriends...none of them very serious before you, but still...I thought it was hard back then, but...I don't know. I was okay with it for a while. For a long time actually. But seeing you again in June...Seeing how it had affected you..."

He didn't say anything in response to this. He had nothing to say that he hadn't already.

"I loved you. I really did...Our relationship was incredible...It meant a lot to me and it always will. I don't want you to think I ended it because I didn't love you."

"I know you did." He said with a sigh. "And you know I did. That I...still do." A single tear escaped from Miley's eye, and Travis hesitantly reached out to wipe it away. The second he touched her, it took everything Miley had not to touch him right back. She was shaking. The things she wanted to do to him just weren't right. She shouldn't be feeling like this. What about...Oh God. What was his name again?

Whatever was holding her back broke, and before she could tell herself not to, she'd attached herself to Travis. Her lips attacked his, and her fingers ran up his chest, settling on either side of his jaw. He smelled like sweat, but he felt so good. She needed to stop. Why was she doing this? Why wasn't she stopping? She was such a horrible person. She'd already started though...stopping now or stopping in an hour really wouldn't make much of a difference, would it?

His tongue slipped between her lips, and his rough hands met with the skin on her lower back. She let out a nearly silent moan, and tried to push him away, but she couldn't make herself do t hat. Why wasn't _he _stopping her? He knew she wasn't supposed to be doing this. But he was a guy. A guy who was in love with her. He wasn't about to push her off.

Travis had her shirt off by the time she finally pushed him away.

"Oh God." She grabbed her shirt and struggled putting it back on, since she was shaking so hard. "Oh God. What am I doing? Oh God." She repeated herself over and over as she struggled to compose herself.

"Miley, I'm sorr-"

"Shut up!" She shouted, sinking to the floor, tears overflowing from her eyes. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, as Travis sat down across from her. "I can't believe I did that. What is Oliver gonna say when he...Oh God. I'm the worst human being on the planet."

"You don't have to tell him."

"What are you- of course I do! I can't hide this!"

"Miley, it's not really a big deal...it's one of those last time things...It's not like it's gonna happen again."

"I still have to tell him. I can't lie to him."

"Do you think he never lies to you?"

"Well, I..."

"Nobody's perfect. You know that. Everybody lies sometimes."

"If you tell him, it'll make things harder for you two. You love him, right?"

"Yes."

"You don't want to hurt him, do you?"

"No, I don't."

"Then don't tell him. You don't need to beat yourself up over this. We didn't even really do anything...It was just kissing, right?"

"Yeah...just kissing." She agreed, although she knew it would have been so much more if she hadn't stopped herself. "I..." She stood up and brushed the dirt off of her pants. "I'm gonna go inside."

"Okay." He said quietly, watching her as she walked out of his life for what he knew would be the last time.

…

Miley left at 5 o'clock the next morning, without saying goodbye to Travis. She left without even thinking about Travis. She pushed it far into the back of her mind, trying to keep her terrible secret a secret.

The plane ride home seemed to go by much faster than the one going the other direction. Before she knew it, she was getting off the plane back in LA. She met Oliver in the baggage terminal, and gave him a big, long hug.

"I missed you." He said, kissing her on the cheek.

"I missed you too." She replied, although she felt like she was lying. Together they took her one suitcase out to Miley's car, and put it in the back seat. Miley was tired, so Oliver drove home, talking about the things that had happened at work since she'd left, even though she'd only been gone two and a half days, and there wasn't much time for anything to have happened.

She fell asleep in the car, and woke up on the couch back in the apartment. Her suitcase was open on her bed, waiting for her to unpack it. Oliver was gone. It was 4:10, so she'd only just missed him.

She unpacked her suitcase and took her time putting her clothes away, thinking about what she'd make herself for dinner. She decided on a grilled chicken sandwich by the time she left her bedroom, and she also took her time making that. Her stomach was roaring with hunger by the time she took the first bite, but the sandwich didn't satisfy her. Nothing seemed to do that anymore.

…

Oliver hardly made it through the door before Miley was all over him. She needed him more than anything right now. She knew she loved him, but she needed to prove to herself that she really did. She needed him to help her get out of her mind. She wanted to stop thinking, just for a little while, and she knew he could do that for her. And he did, but when it was over she felt more disgusting than she had before. She tried to hide it from him, and she was sure she'd done it successfully. It wasn't all that difficult for her to pretend.

…

Oliver took Miley out to eat later that week, in belated celebration of his new job. He insisted on paying, although she fought it.

As soon as they were seated, Oliver looked over Miley's shoulder and recognized someone.

"Hey, that's Michelle!" He said, pointing at the table behind Miley. Michelle was the manager at The Grace Gardens, and therefore was Oliver's boss. He always had stories to tell Miley about her, and he seemed to like Michelle a lot, as far as bosses go.

He stood up and left their table to go greet her, leaving Miley alone at the table. She removed her napkin from her lap and set it on the table neatly, before standing up to join Oliver.

"This is my fiancee, Miley." Oliver introduced, placing his arm around her waist.

"Oh, Miley. Oliver talks about you a lot." Michelle said, with a slightly disgusted look on her face. "And every time I just think, 'What a strange name.'" She laughed obnoxiously and put her hand on Oliver's shoulder, staring at Miley as she did it, knowing perfectly well it made her uncomfortable. Michelle ran her hand up and down Oliver's upper arm, and he didn't seem to notice.

"Well...it was nice to meet you..." Miley muttered, turning to Oliver. "I'm gonna go use the restroom." She said, smiling sweetly. She glanced at Michelle one last time, and nodded, mirroring Michelle's facial expression right back at her.

Miley rested her hands on the sink in the womens restroom and stared into the mirror at her reflection. She dug through her purse and reapplied her lipstick, rubbing her lips together before she stood up straight again.

"Oliver really seems to like you." A familiar unpleasant voice came from behind her. Miley turned around to see Michelle.

"Well he did ask me to marry him, so I suppose that's what that means." Miley said smartly, sticking her lipstick back in her purse.

"He's my favorite employee." Michelle told Miley, smirking. "I get him to stay past closing time every night. He stays with me while I close up, even though he doesn't have to. Such a sweet guy."

"...Yeah, he really is." Miley responded, embarrassed.

"Very talented too." Michelle stated. "He's good at a lot of things." She glanced at Miley, knowing fully well what idea she was planting in her head.

"I've always told him he's got a lot of talent." Miley said, awkwardly placing her purse on her shoulder again. "I should probably go order now..."

"Well tell Oliver goodbye for me. I'll see him Monday." Miley didn't respond, and left the bathroom quickly. She found their table, sat down, and set her purse down beside her. She picked up the menu and studied it for a moment, before setting it back down and confronting Oliver.

"I thought you closed at 9."

"What?" He asked, looking up from his menu.

"You told me you closed at 9. I just saw Michelle in the bathroom and she said you stay past closing with her."

"Did I tell you 9?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Yes, you did. You don't get home until almost 9:30 every night."

"So I made a mistake. What's the big deal?" Oliver asked, slightly annoyed.

"I don't know. You just never told me you were alone with her every night." Miley said, raising an eyebrow.

"It's not every night. And we're not completely alone." He told her, contradicting what Michelle had told her. "Is it a problem?" He picked up his menu again, and looked down at it, like he didn't want to hear her answer.

"It is if you're not going to tell me about it."

"What are you trying to say, Miley? Do you think I'm cheating on you or something?" He slammed the menu down and stared at her.

"No, I just...I just think you're lying to me, and I don't see why."

"Lying about _what?_" Oliver asked, irritated.

"Why didn't you tell me you were staying past closing? You told me you closed at 9!"

"Can we not fight here? Wait until we get home to accuse me of lying, won't you?" He asked her, taking a drink of his water and flagging the waitress over.

"Fine." Miley agreed quietly. She knew she was being the biggest hypocrite to ever walk the Earth, but she also knew he was lying. Maybe Travis was right. Everybody lies, and hers was nothing to beat herself up over.

**_Sorry if I killed your eyes. I couldn't stop myself. XD_**


	18. Chapter 18

**_I found something productive to do on a snow day! =) The weather sucks. Which I'm sure anybody that lives in the midwestern/eastern US probably knows...So Today and yesterday have been snow days for me, and I actually got something done._**

**_This I the shortest chapter I've written in quite some time...but I felt I needed to make it up to your eyes for the last one. Although this probably isn't the best way to do it...Sorry =)_**

Not a single word was said on Miley's end of the conversation throughout the entire dinner and ride home, aside from a feeble 'thank you' that she offered so quietly it couldn't be certain that he'd even heard it, which of course was her exact intention.

Miley had decided that she was going to be more like Oliver. She wasn't going to question him if she could help it, but she'd certainly berate him for asking her. She was going to pretend that nothing was wrong, even though inside she knew something was, and she wasn't going to admit to her transgression, because, frankly, it wasn't that big of a deal. She was about to see how well that worked out.

Oliver left the main room to go take a shower upon arriving home, leaving Miley alone. She stood in the kitchen, staring out the window for a while, before she made yet another decision.

When Oliver turned off the water and pulled his towel off of the shower rod it had been looped over, it was all in complete silence, which is why it shocked him when he got out of the shower and turned to the door. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Miley standing there.

"What are you - " He started to ask, stopping abruptly as she stepped closer. Her hand reached for his, and released his grip on the towel, causing it to fall to the floor at his feet.

"Let's not let some stupid argument get between us." She said quietly, looking back up to his face. "This is what you want, isn't it?" He didn't have to say a single thing to answer her; his body did it for him.

Together they stumbled through the bathroom doorway, only stopping when they reached the couch. Miley leaned against the armrest, using it support as one of her feet left the ground and wrapped around Oliver's leg, while he pulled her shirt over her head. She fell to her knees and he followed shortly after, his hands pushing on the couch hard enough to move it away from them.

"You don't get tired of this?" He asked her, spitting out a word every time his mouth left her skin.

"How could I?" She breathed, moaning loudly before she could say another word.

Oliver asked himself the same question as he moved in and out of her, paying little attention to Miley and the sounds she was making or how hard she was pulling on his hair. He hardly felt it at all, and found himself wondering why he didn't enjoy this like he used to. He was getting tired of it. _Tired. _What kind of guy was he? But then again, Miley seemed to have taken the guy's role. He was almost certain that it meant absolutely nothing to her, and she was only doing it for her own selfish pleasure.

…

"Dude. What's wrong with you?" Jimmy asked Oliver when he realized he hadn't been invited to go out for a drink for fun.

"I'm fine." There was a moment of awkward silence between the two, and then: "Okay, so I'm not."

"Miley?" Jimmy questioned, knowing he'd made a good guess.

"Yeah...she's just...I don't know. She's been acting..._different _lately."

"Different like what?" Jimmy asked impatiently, gripping his glass tightly and staring down to the bottom of it. Oliver raised a hand and flagged over the bartender, who refilled his glass, before he launched into his story.

"I don't know if it's just me, or if she's just..."

"So let me get this straight..." Jimmy said slowly. "You're complaining...because your girlfriend constantly wants to have sex with you?"

"You make me sound crazy when you say it like that."

"Dude you _are_ crazy!"

"And you're dead meat." A deep voice to Oliver's left announced. Oliver turned just in time to see the unfortunately familiar form of Christian Riley, before his fist collided with Oliver's eye and sent him to the floor.

"What the fuck man!" Jimmy shouted at Christian, scrambling off of his bar stool to try to help Oliver up off the ground. Christian ripped Jimmy off of Oliver and tried to jam his fist in Oliver's face again, but fortunately Oliver was able to catch Christian's hand before it connected with his face. The two men were similarly built, so fortunately Christian wasn't much stronger than Oliver was, but filled with drunken rage, he certainly put up a good fight.

Oliver took a fist to the jaw twice before he was able to push Christian off of him and return the favor. All the while, Jimmy stood there watching and yelling, too shocked to call for help, along with the other inhabitants of the nearly full bar.

Christian had pinned Oliver again and had slammed his fist into Oliver's eye socket one more time before the rather large bar tender made it over and pulled them apart.

"GET OUT!" He screamed at them, holding them off of each other.

"You're going down! You're dead meat! That's what you get for stealing my girlfriend!" Christian kept yelling as the bartender forced them out of the bar.

"I didn't steal your girlfriend! She dumped you because you're a fucking lunatic!" Oliver yelled back at him.

"LEAVE!" The bartender roared. "Before I call the cops!" Christian glared at Oliver one last time before he took off in the opposite direction.

Oliver sat down on the curb with a loud sigh, and pressed his fingers to his swollen lip. He pulled them away and saw the blood, and let out a loud sigh.

"I try to go out for a little fun _one fucking time, _and this is what I get."

"Man, you've got shit luck." Jimmy said, sitting down on the curb beside him.

"Yeah I know, you don't need to remind me."

"...Who was that guy?"

"Miley's ex boyfriend. _Christian. _Believe it or not, this isn't the first time he's tried to beat me up." Oliver told him, wiping his bloody lip with the back of his hand.

"Oh I believe it." They were both silent for a minute, before Jimmy stood up. "You wanna leave?"

"Yeah, let's get out of here." Oliver agreed, leaving the curb.

They walked back to the apartment building, where Jimmy had left his truck – it was only two blocks away – and went upstairs to find some ice to put on Oliver's face.

They were in the middle of digging through the freezer, looking for an ice pack, when Miley came home from doing...whatever it is that girls do on the weekends.

"Oh my God. Oliver what happened to your face?" She asked, the second she saw it. Dropping her purse and jacket on the floor, she raced to Oliver and brushed his hair out of his eyes so as to get a better look.

"You did." He answered grumpily.

"_What?_" She asked, confused.

"Christian was at the bar tonight and thought it'd be fun to beat my face in." He explained, while Miley dug through the freezer and pulled out a small ice pack. She pressed it to his lip gently – he still winced – and said,

"I'm gonna call the police." She gave the ice pack to Oliver and picked up the phone while he laid down on the couch to ice his swollen face.

"I'm gonna go, man. Good luck." Jimmy announced, feeling uncomfortable and unneeded.

"Okay. Thanks man. Maybe we can hang out again next weekend. With baseball bats." Jimmy laughed, agreed, and left, leaving Miley and Oliver alone.

"I can't believe this." Miley said, setting the phone down before she joined Oliver on the couch. "I thought we were done with him."

"It wouldn't have happened if you weren't so _hot_." Oliver joked, pulling Miley against him.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, closing her eyes.

"It's not your fault he's crazy." Oliver replied, yawning. Some sort of unknown language came out of Miley's mouth as she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.

…

The sunlight shone through the glass door separating the small balcony from the rest of the apartment the following morning, right in Oliver's face. It stayed there for twenty three minutes before it finally woke him up, and when he did wake up, it was with Miley's face in his crotch. He groaned and stood up, carefully placing Miley's head on a pillow when he did so. She'd drooled on his pants. Great.

Oliver changed his clothes and checked the clock. It was only 7 o'clock. _Seven. _He hadn't been awake this early in _years_. What did people do this early in the morning?

Oliver decided to be a weirdo, and sat down in the recliner to watch Miley sleep. Her mouth was hanging open and the pillow her head was resting on was pushing half of her face up, so she looked rather deformed, but beautiful all the same. She let out a loud snort and rolled onto her back, before a loud smack interrupted the silence. Oliver looked over to the sliding doors to see a stupefied bird flying away, and a big smear on the glass.

"Bird again?" Miley asked, awakened by the sound of the bird colliding with the door.

"Yeah." Oliver answered, yawning.

"I should stop buying Windex." She said with a laugh, sitting up tiredly. Oliver didn't respond, and simply stood up to make himself a sandwich.

"You want one?" He asked Miley when he took out the bread.

"No, I think I'm gonna go back to sleep." She replied, standing up. She disappeared into the bedroom before Oliver continued to make his sandwich. He took his breakfast into the living room and sat down on the couch to eat it. He turned on the TV and flipped through the channels before landing on a Law & Order marathon. It took an episode about a woman killing her cheating husband, a man hiring someone to kill his cheating wife, and a woman accidentally murdering her lover before Oliver realized that it was Cheater's Weekend, and this was a marathon about the unfaithful.

"Really cheerful." He said aloud to himself, the fact that any show about murder really wasn't supposed to be, never coming to his mind.

Before he knew it, it was noon, and Miley was still asleep. Usually it was the other way. She was the one who woke up early, and he was the one who slept half the day away. He wondered out loud what Miley did in the mornings while he was asleep.

Just as the murderer was about to kill the detective he had been trailing, Miley finally did wake up.

"Hey." She greeted, prompting a loud scream from her fiance, who hadn't expected her to be there. "Sorry." She apologized, laughing as she climbed over the back of the couch and sat down beside him.

"I..." Oliver started, embarrassed.

"It's okay." She said, grabbing his hand. "You've done the same thing to me before."

"You didn't scream like a little girl though." Miley only smiled, running her hand up and down Oliver's leg.

"We have to tell my dad."

"I was hoping he'd find out from someone else." Oliver said, removing her hand from his upper thigh and squeezing it.

"We've been engaged for almost three months, and he still doesn't know. I've kind of been putting it off...I'm just as scared as you are to tell him."

"Maybe he'll be like he was when we told him we were dating." Oliver said hopefully.

"Yeah..." Miley agreed with him, knowing that probably wasn't going to be how it was. "We can tell him once your bruise heals." She said, moving into his lap and kissing him hard on the mouth. Her hands slipped below the waistband of his sweatpants, and he abruptly pulled them out.

"How about we go now and get it over with?" He asked her, squeezing her fists in his.

"I...umm...okay." She said, confused by his resistance. "I'll go get ready." She disappeared once again into her bedroom to change her clothes. Oliver knew he'd hurt her feelings, but in Miley's pants was really the last place he wanted to be right now. He was getting tired of it. He only had so much energy, and using it up more than once a day had finally drained him.

She reappeared in the living room wearing jeans and her senior year homecoming t-shirt, but not a smile. Oliver pulled his shoes on and left the apartment with her hand in his. Once they were inside the elevator, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist from behind her, and pressed his lips to her neck.

"I love you Miley." He assured her. She didn't respond, and this time it meant something.

…

"You're what?" Robby Ray asked, unexpectedly calm. He seemed to be more focused on Oliver's face than the news his daughter had just given him.

"Getting married." Miley repeated warily, squeezing Oliver's hand extra hard.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?" She asked him, uncomfortably crossing her legs.

"Are you pregnant? Trying to commit insurance fraud?"

"No I'm not, and _what?_"

"I was just watching Sicko on the documentary channel." Mr. Stewart explained. "A lady married a Canadian just to get universal health care."

"Why would I do that? If I wanted to, I could probably buy an entire insurance company. And Oliver's not Canadian anyway."

"I don't know. It was one of the first things that came to mind."

"Dad, I'm marrying Oliver because I love him. That's why." She told him emphatically.

"You sure?"

"Yes." Oliver and Miley said in unison.

"Okay." Robby Ray said, nodding his head approvingly.

"Okay?"

"Yes. Okay." He repeated, getting up off of the couch and heading to the refrigerator.

"You're okay with it?" Miley asked, smiling as she followed him.

"You're 21 Miley. Almost 22. I couldn't stop you if I wanted."

"_Do you_ want to?" She asked, still surprised by her father's rather tranquil response.

"Nope." He set a plastic wrapped plate down on the counter and turned to Miley. "Just as long as you're still my little girl." He smiled at her and set his hand on her shoulder. "I just want you to be happy."

"Thanks Dad." Miley said, hugging her father. He let go of her and started removing the plastic wrap from his plate of leftovers. Looking up again, he said to Oliver, who was standing – still a little frightened – a few feet behind Miley. "You take good care of her, son."

"I-I will." Oliver asked, even more surprised than Miley was.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I've got lunch to make before Lynne get's home." Mr Stewart said, giving Oliver his perfectly good reason to get out of there.

"See you later, Dad." Miley called as Oliver pulled her out the door, anxious to get out of such an awkward, uncomfortable situation.

…

Miley stared at the back of Oliver's head from the guest bedroom doorway, wondering if it was really worth it to start something. She knew something was wrong with him, but she couldn't figure out what it was. He'd been acting really strange lately. In the weeks since they'd told their parents of their imminent marriage, they'd only had sex twice, and it was all his choice. She'd been willing. She'd been more than willing. But he was constantly making excuses. He was tired, he had to go to work early, he was sore from working out – he'd started lifting weights after the incident with Christian – or he just didn't feel like it. She knew they were all lies, and that brought the idea to her head that he might not want to sleep with her anymore because he was getting enough from somebody else.

"Why don't you want to have sex with me?" She asked, making her decision to question him, even though she knew it would only start a fight. That was the last thing she wanted; They fought way too much, she thought, but she couldn't keep it to herself any longer.

"What?" He asked her, turning away from the dresser he was digging through to see her standing behind him.

"You don't want to sleep with me anymore."

"Yes I do." He replied, brushing it off.

"Then why have you kept making excuses not to? I mean, you used to do that occasionally, but lately it's like...every time."

"I haven't been making excuses." He said, ignoring the rest of her statement, although he knew it was true.

"Then what do you call them?" She asked. He didn't respond, and just continued to get ready for work.

"Can we do this later?" He asked, annoyed.

"Can't you just answer me now?"

"Miley I need to get to work." He told her, pulling on a pair of black dress pants.

"You still have a few minutes."

"I have to be there early today. Frank's probably waiting for me outside right now." He lied to her, flipping through his ties to find one that went with his olive green shirt.

"Fine." She said nonchalantly, running her fingers through her hair. Oliver turned and gave her a questioning look. "Yes. _Fine. _Just go." She turned away just in time to hide her tears, and left the guest room only to lock herself in her own bedroom.

…

The door seemed to have only just closed behind Oliver when Miley left her room, wiped her tears, grabbed her purse and went after him.

She pulled into the parking lot of The Grace Gardens at 4:30, and stayed in the car for ten minutes, telling herself she was stupid for coming here. She didn't want to seem like one of those paranoid girlfriends, but she didn't want to wait to finish this argument, so she had no choice.

It took very little to convince the host to let her in, and when she was inside, Miley found Oliver at one of the tables in the back, eating his dinner with none other than his manager. Michelle seemed to be enjoying the dinner way more than she should be, until she saw Miley. She said something to Oliver, who looked up at Miley and sighed loudly, reinforcing the feeling of stupidity that was still running through Miley's body.

"Why are you here?" He asked angrily, once he'd pulled her into a corner.

"Just tell me what I'm doing wrong Oliver. I don't want to fight with you, can we just fix this now?"

"Miley, I don't want to do this n-"

"Fine. Go back to your little dinner date with your new girlfriend."

"Are you serious? She's my _boss_" He said, pushing his hair back in frustration.

"That's not what she thinks."

"Miley-"

"She's staring at your ass right now!" She hissed, looking over Oliver's shoulder at Michelle.

"Just go home. We'll do this later."

"You know, that's just the thing. You keep saying that, but it never happens. You make all these excuses, and you say 'maybe later' but we _never_ do." She said, rubbing her eyes before she started crying. "I just don't understand. What am I doing wrong? Why don't you want to have sex with me anymore?" Oliver groaned loudly, annoyed, and finally answered her.

"You want to know why I don't want to have sex with you anymore?" Miley nodded, and he continued. "Because I'm _sick _of it. I'm tired of having sex with you!" He said it loudly enough for half of the room to hear, and Miley didn't bother to stop herself from crying now.

"Why?" She asked, sniffling. "You haven't answered my question. What did I do to make you feel that way?"

"I think you're a raging nymphomaniac, and you need to get help. Okay? Does _that _answer your question?" He asked her angrily. The entire restaurant was staring now, and Miley felt more embarrassed than she ever had in her entire life. She nodded, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and quietly and calmly told him,

"When you get home your suitcases will be waiting for you outside the door. I'll take your key now. Don't bother trying to come inside, I don't want to talk to you." She held out her hand, but he didn't give her his key.

"Miley, don't-"

"Give me the damn key!" She yelled, emulating the anger he'd displayed only minutes before.

Oliver dug his keys out of his pocket and took the one to Miley's apartment off of the ring, forcing it into Miley's hand.

"Good luck." She told him, before she left the restaurant and sat in her car for the next half hour because she was too upset to trust herself to drive.

…

Miley stumbled through the doorway of her silent apartment, still sobbing, and threw her purse on the ground, sending everything in it across the floor. Not bothering to pick it up, she went into the guest room and ripped open Oliver suitcases, sitting empty on the floor like they had been for several months. She yanked open his dresser drawers and piled everything into the suitcases haphazardly. She pulled open the bottom drawer, and her hand brushed against something small and hard. She reached back in and pulled a small black box out of Oliver's underwear drawer. Reluctantly, she opened it, and saw one of the most beautiful diamond rings she'd ever seen in her life. She shut the box and gently placed it in his suitcase, wondering if she'd ever come this close to getting one again in her life.

After removing his things from the bathroom, Miley circled the apartment a few times, making sure she hadn't missed anything. She slowly zipped the suitcases closed and drug them outside, stacking the smaller one on top of the bigger one right outside the door, before going back inside to get a piece of paper and a pen.

She wrote him a note, telling him what had happened between Travis and herself in Tennessee, and found that she'd never felt so good about confessing to something in her life.

With a single piece of tape, Miley folded the note in half and taped the open end to her door, before closing it behind her and leaving her guilt and unhappiness outside.

**_*puts helmet on* Don't kill me. COUGHTheresaJenKayleeCOUGH._**


	19. Chapter 19

**_Hey everybody! Hopefully everyone had a wonderful holiday season. Hard to believe the decade's over, isn't it? _**

**_I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors in advance. I wrote the last half at about 2 AM and I'm too tired and lazy to proofread it any better right now, and didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. So hopefully it's not too terrible, and you enjoy it. =)_**

Two weeks went by before anybody checked in on Miley. Two days went by before the phone rang. Two hours went by before she broke down and left to go get him back, but it only took two seconds for her to change her mind and turn around.

Miley spent day after day after day in her apartment all alone. Lilly called every few days, but there was always an excuse available to get her out of leaving. There was always a faked raspy sore throat voice, or a bogus doctor's appointment. It didn't take long for it to progress to just not answering the phone.

It had been two weeks and six days since Miley had kicked Oliver out, and the only times she didn't think of him were the exact moment she fell asleep and woke up each night, and the four times she'd stubbed her toe since that day.

Two weeks and six days seemed to Lilly to be a completely unacceptable amount of time to keep yourself holed up in your apartment, so she chose to enter Miley's apartment – using the key Miley had given Jackson for emergencies – and interrupt the tragic Lifetime movie that Miley had been watching in what seemed like an attempt to make herself feel even more miserable.

"What are you doing?" Lilly asked, standing in front of the television screen with her hand supporting her growing baby bump and a perturbed look splashed across her face.

"Trying to see through you." Miley answered bleakly, her emotionless eyes making it seem like she really was.

"What are you doing with _your life, _I mean. You can't just sit here like a bump on a log for the rest of your life because one relationship didn't work out."

"A bump on a log?" Lilly sat down beside Miley with a sigh.

"You know what I mean." The corner of Miley's mouth curled upward, in an effort to show that she did, but her eyes seemed to glue themselves to Lilly's protruding stomach. "You need to go out. You can't make excuses forever."

"I can't go out."

"Why not?"

"I can't trust myself."

"With _what?_" Miley finally looked up from Lilly's stomach, and gave her a 'you know what' look.

"Miley...going out with other guys is perfectly fine. You can have as much fun as you want to, and there's nothing he can do about it. He has no claim to you now." Pulling her knees up to her chest, Miley said nothing.

"Give me your hand." Lilly ordered, suddenly excited. Miley reluctantly held her hand out, and Lilly placed it against her stomach. Tears fought their way out of Miley's eyes as she felt the pressure of her unborn niece or nephew's foot against her palm. "I can't get over that." Lilly said quietly, smiling.

"How is he?" Miley asked, pulling her hand away. Lilly's smile disappeared. She knew who Miley was talking about.

"He's...okay." She answered slowly, the look on her face suggesting she really didn't want to be in the middle of this, whatever _this _was.

"Okay?"

"Not much better than you." Miley rested her head in the space between her knees, and was quiet for a moment.

"You're right."

"I am?" Lilly asked, grinning as she settled herself further into the space between two of the sofa cushions.

"Yeah." Miley assured her, nodding. "It's stupid to let him control my life like this. I can go out and have fun if I want to." Lilly nodded, still smiling. "I can be happy without him." Another nod from Lilly punctuated Miley's third statement. "It'll just take _a lot _of alcohol..."

…

Miley kept her eyes shut as hard as she possibly could, but he still looked different. Her hands didn't touch him – only the back of the passenger seat - yet he still felt different. The feeling in her mouth was the same, but the taste was different. Her body was reacting the same familiar way, but it all felt different. It was all wrong. _He_ was different. _He_ was wrong.

Disgust was one of the many things Miley was feeling. Disgust and pleasure - at the same time. Disappointment. Superiority. But mostly disgust.

This was what she'd been missing. Not him. She didn't _know _him, so how could she miss him? She'd only just met him at the bar an hour ago. He'd bought her a drink and told her his name, but she'd forgotten it. He'd been nice, and he was funny. He'd seemed like a perfectly okay replacement at the time, and so she'd followed him out to his car. They hadn't made it far. He'd hardly even made it into the front seat when she'd thrown herself at him. It took very little to pull him into the back seat with her. He was incredibly willing. After all, this is what he'd been expecting. This is why he'd come to the bar tonight. This was exactly why he'd bought her that drink. If he could do it so casually, why couldn't she? That was just the thing. She wasn't that type of person. She wasn't "that girl." Was she?

She changed her mind when the nameless black-haired man on top of her started deriving much more pleasure from this than she was. His hands had gone up her shirt and unhooked her bra the second they'd fallen into the stained back seat of his dark blue Buick Century, but it was taking him so much longer to get everything else off. He was too busy squeezing her breasts, causing her actual pain, while he practically mauled her face, missing her mouth – no doubt on accident – and licking her chin with his disgusting slimy tongue every other time he tried to reattach his mouth to hers after coming up for air. It was horrible. He was absolutely positively terrible, and it made her nauseous. She didn't want to think about Oliver. That was why she was here. She didn't want to think about him, and associate him with this horrid experience, but she couldn't help but think about how Oliver's hands felt different when they touched her, and how Oliver's tongue didn't feel so disgusting in her mouth. When Mr. No Name's prickly whiskers scratched her face, she thought about how Oliver's face was always smooth and soft. If she were with Oliver, he would've done this completely different. He would have done it so much better.

She'd stopped moving with him long before; her hands were still attached to his belt, but he hadn't seemed to notice. He pulled her shirt off the rest of the way and his hands slid down to her skirt, and she wondered if maybe she could go through with this. Maybe it would get better. Maybe.

"I can't do this." She gasped, shoving him off of her and reaching for her shirt. He tried to kiss her again as she pulled it back on, too drunk to notice just yet that she had given up. She pushed him away again and shoved the door open, pushing the bra she hadn't bothered to put back on into the depths of her purse, once she retrieved it from the passenger's seat.

By now, Mr. No Name had realized what was happening, and was none too happy about it.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice accented with intoxication.

"Leaving." She answered, slamming the door shut.

"Y-you can't do that." He stuttered, falling out of the car as he struggled to follow after her, completely smashed, and hardly able to tell whether he was walking or holding still.

"Well I am." She stated, backing away from him quickly. He lunged forward and grabbed a hold of her arm, not missing out of pure luck.

"You're gonna finish what you started." He ordered, anger distorting his face. She said nothing, and tried to pull her arm out of his grasp. For as thin of a man as he was, he was strong. "Get back in the car." He slurred, pulling on her arm. She didn't move, and he nearly lost his balance.

"Let go of me." She demanded indignantly, trying to yank her arm out of his grasp and failing.

"No. Get in the car, bitch." Oh what had she gotten herself into? This had been a terrible idea. She'd blame Lilly for this if it wasn't _completely _her own fault.

"_Get off of me._" Miley shouted, pushing him away as hard as she possibly could, not achieving her freedom until a large muscular man noticed what was happening and left the group he was walking with to shove Nameless to the ground so that she could get away from him.. "T-thank you." She stuttered, stumbling away as quickly as she could without even looking at her savior's face.

Miley walked all the way home, barefoot, as she'd left her shoes in the car and didn't really care to go back to get them. She'd taken a cab to the bar, wanting to try something different and not trusting herself to drive home afterward anyway. She didn't want to stop to hail another cab, so walking seemed to be her only choice. Her phone was...somewhere. But it was probably dead, and she didn't want to admit to Lilly how much of a screwed up loser she was.

An hour and a half later, when Miley finally made it home, her feet were bleeding, and she was exhausted. She staggered into the bathroom and fell to the floor beside the bathtub. She started the water in the tub and watched it fill up, adding to it's depths with her own tears.

Attaching her hands to the seat, Miley threw up in the toilet bowl, crying harder. Hovering there for a moment, she waited, but didn't get sick again. She struggled to sit back up and undress herself, and finally lowered herself into the bathtub, submerging her body in the hot water. She laid there until the water grew cold, but still felt dirty.

Not bothering to dry herself off, Miley climbed out of the bathtub and went to her bedroom to get dressed, before lying down on the couch with a bunch of blankets and her phone -which she'd found in the bottom of her purse - and giving up on her pride.

The phone rang four times before he answered, and when he did, he didn't sound very happy.

"Oliver...I..." She started to say, not sure what she'd called to tell him, now that she had the chance to speak.

"Miley, why are you calling me?" He asked her, trying not to sound happy to hear her voice, even though in all honesty, he was.

"I miss you. I'm sorry. This was...stupid. It was an immature reason to break up, and I'm just...really sorry."

"I'm...sorry too...but..."

"But?" She asked, her voice squeaking a little. The room seemed colder all of a sudden.

"I shouldn't have said what I said...I know I embarrassed you...and I'm really sorry...but I don't know what you're expecting from me...I don't feel like I can trust you anymore..." She could really care less about what he'd said to her. Sure it had been embarrassing, and yes, she'd been angry at the time, but now, she missed him too much to care what he'd called her, where he'd said it, and how many people he'd said it in front of..

"I understand. I wouldn't trust me either." Miley replied, realizing how little that helped too late. "What...ummm...what can I do to fix this? Because I'll do it. I'll do anything, if it'll help you forgive me..." She said, aware that she sounded like she was begging, and not caring the least bit that she sounded so pathetic.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" She mumbled, more to herself than to Oliver. A moment passed in near silence, before he spoke up again.

"Can you give me some time? Maybe we can make it work...but right now I just need a while to think about this." Miley nodded and pulled her knees in closer to her body, before she realized he couldn't see her.

"Yeah. Yeah I can do that. Whatever it takes." She ran her fingers through her wet hair using the hand not holding the phone, in order to air it out. "Oliver?"

"Yeah?" He asked softly, so calmly it made Miley worry that something was wrong with him.

"Do you think...Do you think you could ever love me again?"

"I didn't stop Miley." He answered, without hesitation. "It's not loving you that's the problem. I know I can do that. It's trusting you, and I _don't _think I can do that."

"Oh...okay. I, umm...well thanks for talking to me...I...I love you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Miley." He hung up before she did, but she held the phone to her ear after it went silent, praying that it would all work out, and this wouldn't be the last time she had the chance to tell him she loved him.

…

It was unnaturally cold in Dr. Lennox's office, even for early November. Cold air was blowing out of the vent directly behind where Miley'd been forced to sit, seeing as it had been the only available seat in the small waiting room when she arrived there.

The magazines were all at least three months old, and the sole window was blocked by the extraordinarily large secretary, who was rifling through the filing cabinet placed below the window, while Miley waited. She knew from experience that the view wasn't that great, but she was starting to feel claustrophobic in the tiny space, and any view of the outside world would have helped.

By the time Miley's psychiatrist – who she hadn't seen in several months, but had come to today to get to the root of the problem that Oliver had made her realize was there – called her in, she'd felt like the walls had completely closed in on her, and was getting extremely nauseous.

"Miley." Dr. Lennox greeted with a smile, as Miley sat down on his green couch like she used to do two times a week, every week, back when she'd first started coming here. "It's been a long time. I take it to mean you were doing well?"

"I...yeah. Yeah, I was."

"But you're not happy anymore?"

"That's not exactly the problem this time...I mean if I'm here it probably means I'm not as happy as I should be, but it's all a completely different issue this time."

"Well let's see if I can help you with that." Dr. Lennox said, still grinning. He rested his foot on a stack of books that were sitting beside his desk, and crossed his arms, looking at Miley with his left eyebrow raised slightly higher than the right.

"Umm...well...I think I like sex too much." Dr. Lennox's arched left eyebrow flattened out and joined his right in the middle.

"You like sex too much..."

"I know it sounds crazy. Believe me, I know. I just...it's all I think about. My boyfriend...he got really sick of it and it ruined things between us. I can't be around him without wanting to..." Miley pushed her hair back, out of her eyes, and moved on without finishing. "And it's not just him...I want it to stop. It makes me feel like maybe I don't love him, and I just want him for sex." A tear almost escaped from her eye, but she rubbed it away before it could make itself known. "I know that's not how it is, but sometimes I feel like it is, and I know he thinks it is." Dr. Lennox nodded slowly, pressing his index finger to his lips as he thought.

"Well it could be a number of things." He said, as he started to list the possibilities.

…

Miley arrived back at her apartment two hours later, feeling extremely relieved. The knowledge that it wasn't all her fault – that she now had a viable excuse – helped her fall asleep that night, coupled with the realization that she was going to stop feeling the way she had been for so long.

Miley started feeling better immediately, and felt like her old self again by the end of the month. She was able to have fun without worrying about everything. She could go out with Lilly and ignore the looks guys gave her.

This of course did not change how much she missed Oliver. That problem seemed to have only gotten worse after seeing Dr. Lennox, but there was an obvious, simple solution to this. The problem was, until Oliver decided he'd had enough time, there was absolutely nothing Miley could do about it. And so on the couch she sat, spending her time much the same way she had spend it the first few weeks, before Lilly had forced her to be sociable.

Miley's birthday came, and she still hadn't heard from Oliver. She'd truly expected him to show up on her doorstep, ready to take her back, but he didn't. She sat in her apartment with Lilly, who was by now nearly seven months pregnant, and so uncomfortable that she couldn't go anywhere without being completely miserable, which she'd of course apologized for many times by the time the clock struck twelve and Miley's birthday was over. He hadn't forgotten it. She knew he'd purposely not contacted her, and it hurt. She felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. She might as well have inflicted that exact physical pain on herself though, because if not for that little incident in Tennessee, they wouldn't still be broken up. That was what was keeping them apart now. At times she'd regretted telling him about it, but she was a lousy liar. She couldn't have kept it to herself much longer, and it would have eaten her up. She was glad she'd told him, but it hadn't helped her to feel any better about it.

Miley tried not to show how disappointed she was not to hear from Oliver, but Lilly noticed it. She'd known exactly what Miley was expecting from her birthday, and she'd also known that she wasn't going to get it.

"Miley he's not going to call you." Lilly said, perhaps a little too harshly, to her best friend, who was curled up on the couch wrapped in a blanket, pretending to be tired. Miley nearly started crying, and had to wipe her eyes three times before Lilly spoke again. "He's too proud to do it. He's miserable without you Miley. Completely miserable. His pride just gets in the way...and won't let him make the first move."

"What are you saying?" Miley asked, sitting up and sniffling, now that she didn't feel like she needed to hide her unhappiness from Lilly.

"Go to his apartment and talk to him in person. Fix things face to face."

"I don't...know where he lives now." Miley remarked quietly, as Lilly reached into her purse, pulling out a receipt and a pen. She flipped the receipt over and wrote an address on the back, handing it to Miley.

"I can't see you guys like this anymore. It's causing me actual, physical pain." She grinned and looked down at her stomach, sliding her hand beneath it. "Although that could just be the little monster growing in here." Miley laughed softly and got up to hug Lilly, who'd been sitting in the recliner across from her all night.

"Thank you Lilly. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You probably wouldn't have gotten out of bed and would be lying in there under a month's worth of dust and takeout by now." Lilly said with a smile, as she struggled to get out of the recliner, with Miley's help. "Jackson didn't want me staying out past ten tonight. He treats me like I'm a child sometimes. I'm hoping when the baby comes, I'll get to be the adult again." Miley grinned, wrapping her arm around her friend's back.

"I've never seen him act so responsible in my entire life. He always used to forget to feed his pet catfish. We went through fifteen of those suckers before Dad finally told him he couldn't have another one. Mom always liked to think the best of everybody. She kept convincing Dad to let him have one more. I don't know if she really believed he'd take care of one eventually, or if she just didn't like catfish, but..."

"I wish I could've met your mom." Lilly interrupted.

"She'd love you. She couldn't have picked anybody better for Jackson."

"Are you saying we don't gross you out anymore?" Lilly asked, laughing as she put on her jacket.

"No, you still do. Just I guess I'd rather you be the one grossing me out than anybody else."

"Thank you...I think."

"You're welcome." Miley sighed happily, and grabbed Lilly's purse for her. " I can't wait to be an aunt." She added, her eyes smiling even though the corners of her mouth were just barely turned up.

"I can. Not looking forward to the whole birth thing, you know?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine. It'll be over before you know it." Lilly took her purse from Miley and turned toward the door.

"Hey. Good luck. I'm sure everything's gonna be okay."

"I hope so." Miley said, as she hugged her friend goodbye.

"Well, goodbye. And thank you. For everything." Lilly told her, even though she'd given Miley so much more than Miley had given her, and had nothing to really thank her for.

"Thank _you _for everything. See you later Lilly."

The door closed behind Lilly, and Miley went back to the living room, picking the receipt with Oliver's new address on it up off of the table. Trying to keep it wrinkle-free, she straightened it out on her bedside table and left it there beside a picture of herself and Oliver while she slept.

…

Miley's hand seemed to be frozen in the about-to-knock position. She couldn't make herself turn around and leave, but she also couldn't make herself knock. She stood there in this awkward stance for a moment, before she finally threw caution to the wind and slammed her knuckles onto the wooden door. She'd only just lowered her hand when the door opened, and she stood face to face with Oliver.

"I...Oliver, I..." She took a deep breath, and started over. "You were right. I went to see Dr. Lennox. It turns out one of the side effects of mixing the particular birth control I was on with Lexapro is a dangerously increased sex drive." Oliver stared at her for a moment, and only blinked once before he spoke.

"You saw the Doctor?"

"Yeah. I didn't like feeling like I couldn't control myself. I wanted to be able to trust myself again." He stared at her again, and awkwardly asked her,

"So you're feeling better?"

"I saw my other doctor. I'm on a new birth control that's approved by Dr. Lennox now."

"That's good."

"Yeah." She replied, not knowing what else to say. Oliver ran his fingers through his hair, and all of a sudden, his face showed a whole combination of emotions, compared to the emotionless expression he'd been holding before.

"God, Miley I missed you. I am _so_ sorry." He stepped back, letting her into the apartment.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry. You were completely right. "

"No, I was out of line, I shouldn't have-"

"Oliver, I'm the only one who needs to be apologizing right now. I needed to hear it. I never would've realized I had a problem. Granted the location wasn't that great...but you helped me get better. So you have nothing to be sorry about. I forgave you a long time ag-"

"Can we not argue about who's more sorry? I just really wanna kiss you." He interrupted her.

"Then do it." He leaned in and slowly pushed his lips against hers, feeling the familiar heat he hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. He kissed her harder, and her fingers ran up his arms, interlocking behind his neck as his hands trailed down her back. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, and her entire body tensed up. He let go of her and stepped back, ready to apologize.

"I..I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..." Oliver wrapped his arms around her and she stopped talking. "Do...do you want to...I mean I'd understand if you didn't want to, I've only been here for five minutes-"

"Oh I want to." He whispered in her ear before he pressed his lips to the skin below it.

"Good." She whispered back, pressing her hands to his chest as he shoved her up against the wall behind her with a little more force that was necessary. His mouth attacked hers, and she fought back just as eagerly, if not more so. His hands moved to the zipper on her sweatshirt, and he yanked it down, ripping the jacket off of her and discarding it on the floor, while she pulled his T shirt over his head and returned her lips to his. His body pressed harder against hers, and she felt that familiar want, multiplied many times over and expressed with a loud squeak. His experienced hands unbuttoned and removed her jeans, before the weight of his body pressed against hers again, making it slightly more difficult for her to undress him the rest of the way. Her fingers slipped between his boxers and his skin, and she pulled his sweatpants and boxers down together, her mouth meeting with his chest all the way back up, while he undid the clasp on her bra and sent it flying somewhere across the room.

"We're not doing this here, are we?" She asked, barely able to breathe, let alone speak.

"N-no." He muttered, lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around him, and his hands held tightly to her thighs as he carried her through the doorway of his bedroom and dropped her on the bed, pushing her onto her back as he came down on top of her. "I missed this." He told her, met by a loud groan as he moved inside of her.

"Me too." She breathed, hardly able to get the two words out before an involuntary squeak came out of her mouth.

"I love you." He whispered, rubbing his cheek against her neck, and laying kisses on her shoulder. "I never stopped and I never will."

"I-" She squeezed her eyes shut tight, and tried not to make another sound, but released a just barely audible moan, ruining it despite her best efforts. " I don't think I _could _stop. Even if I wanted to."

…

Oliver's bedroom had no window, so the sunlight played no part in waking Miley up in the morning.

"Good morning beautiful." A voice said softly in her ear. It was a moment before she remembered where she was and who she was with.

"Good morning." She responded with a smile, opening her eyes.

"You hungry?" He asked her, rolling out of bed.

"No, not really. What time is i-ow." She was met with an unexpected pain when she tried to sit up.

"What? Are you okay?" Oliver asked, a worried tone taking over his voice.

"I'm fine." She assured him, laughing, and cringing when the laughter brought pain.

"No you're not. You're in pain. Why are you laughing?" He asked her, kneeling beside the bed next to her. She laughed again and smacked him playfully on the chest.

"It's your fault, asshole."

"My fault?" He asked, confused. Miley sat up in bed, breathing in deeply as her muscles ached.

"I feel like I got run over by a truck."

"And that's funny?"

"Oliver. I'm sore from last night." She told him, staring into his eyes in an almost hypnotizing way. "Do you understand?"

"Oh...._Oh_. I'm sorry, I didn't know I was hurting you." He told her, rubbing her warm, soft back apologetically.

"It's fine, Oliver." She assured him, sliding her legs out from under the blankets. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him. "You're warm."

"So are you."

"You're moving back in, right?" She asked, without skipping a beat.

"If you want me to."

"Of course I want you to." She told him, kissing him lightly, before slipping her legs back under the blankets.

"Okay. Then I'll move back in."

"Today?" He laughed, but agreed, crawling over her to get back under the covers beside her.

"Today." Oliver's arms slipped around Miley, and held her back up against chest. He kissed her neck a few times, and confessed, "When I asked you if you were hungry...I was hoping you'd say no. I never planned on making you anything." Miley's voice was laced with sarcasm when she replied, ever so sweetly,

"Oh Oliver, you're so thoughtful."


	20. Chapter 20

**_Hi...Once again, I need to apologize for taking for-freaking-ever. Really sorry about that. We had to put my dog down last month, my brother's birthday was the 31st, all of my weekends have been filled for the past few weeks with school stuff, friends birthday parties and prom dress shopping (yay!), and I'm just having difficulty writing. I know exactly what I'm going to write, but I open that word document and decide that I really don't want to do it. So I apologize. I really would love to be able to update every week like a normal person, but I just can't. :(_**

**_As for this story...I'm thinking there will be one, possibly two, chapters left after this one. I was going to cut this one off, but then the next chapter would've been really short or really boring, so I had to settle with it being really long. So I apologize for that too. Hopefully it's not too bad._**

**_While this story and I were not getting along a few weeks ago, I wrote my first M rated story...it's just a oneshot, but I think it turned out pretty well. So if you like that kind of stuff, it's waiting for you. :)_**

**_I would love love love it if you reviewed. Is 200 reviews too much to ask for from my favorite readers ever?_**

The more they laid there in silence in Oliver's warm - but far from comfortable - bed, the more tired the two of them grew, until they both had fallen back asleep. The clouds outside covered and uncovered the sun fourteen times, and the bush outside the doorway of the apartment building was peed on twice by two different dogs, before they woke up again.

Miley of course, was the first one awake, but she laid there in bed despite her desperate need to use the bathroom, because she didn't actually know where it was, and it was too cold outside the covers for her to really want to get out.

"Good morning." Oliver rasped in her ear. He'd slept with his mouth open and probably had a sore throat now, she deduced from his hoarse voice.

She turned onto her back and smiled over at him.

"Again." She stated, grinning. Sitting up in bed, she held the blankets to her chest and asked, "Where's the bathroom?"

"Across the hall." He told her, pointing, almost as if she couldn't figure out where across the hall was unless he showed her.

Miley didn't let go of the sheet wrapped around her until she was completely out of the bed, and Oliver pulled on it, releasing it from her fingers. She left the room looking at him over her shoulder, and nearly ran into the door in the process.

Once she'd used the bathroom, she returned to the bathroom holding a towel to her front side.

"I'm gonna shower." She told him, giving him a look that he knew very well.

"Okay." He told her, smiling as he climbed out of bed, which was made very difficult by his tangled sheets. By the time his feet touched the floor, Miley was back in the bathroom, and the door was half shut. He gently pushed it open the rest of the way, and saw her leaning into the shower to turn it on, half of her body hidden by the shower curtain, with her towel now crumpled in a pile on the floor. The rest of her body appeared as soon as the sound of the water hitting the bottom of the bath tub did, and she turned to look at him, a calm look on her face.

"I missed you." She told him as they waited for the water to heat up.

"I know. I missed you too." He replied, pulling her close to him. Her chin rested on his shoulder, and her fingers snaked around his back and intertwined behind him.

"This is a nice apartment." Miley told him, even though the only part of it she could picture in her mind was the bedroom, and now the bathroom.

"It was the first one I could find, and it was cheap, so..." He trailed off, kissing her gently before she let go of him and checked the temperature of the water with her hand, climbing in when it was approved. Oliver followed her in and was immediately met with water spraying his face. He squinted and took a step back, freeing his face from the showerhead's wrath. Miley pulled his head down to her level and ran her fingers through his hair, as the water smoothed it out. The majority of the water raining down from the showerhead was falling on the top of Miley's own head, so there was no need for him to help her do what she was doing to him.

She reached behind him and took the shampoo from the shelf, pausing with it in her hands before she opened it, squirted some into her hands, gave Oliver the bottle, and started working the shampoo through his hair.

Oliver laughed, squeezed the bottle, looked up at her, squirted some more into his palm, and started washing her hair for her, all the while with a smile on his face.

Miley reached up and re-positioned the showerhead, washing the soap out of Oliver's hair once she was done. He went along with her game, and then did the same to her, washing her like she was a small child and couldn't do it on her own.

The shampoo was returned to the shelf, and Oliver's bar of soap met Miley's hands. She struggled to keep it between her palms as she rubbed some of it off onto her hands, and again handed it to Oliver while she rubbed the soap onto his chest.

Oliver attempted to keep a hold of the bar while he did like Miley had, but unfortunately it slipped from his fingers and slid across the bottom of the shower. Miley leaned down to get it, the top of her head brushing against his thigh, and came back up with the bar of soap held safely in one hand.

"You should really think about liquid soap." She told him, handing the bar of soap to him and not letting go until he had a good grip on it.

"But that's not as fun." He complained, grinning.

This time, Oliver successfully soaped up his hands, and returned the bar to Miley, before running his soapy hands across her shoulders and down her collarbone.

They kept handing off the soap until each had completely washed the other's body, taking an extraordinarily long time to shower, wasting a whole lot of water, and probably killing a lot of fish in the process..

Eventually they shut off the water and climbed out of the shower together. Turning into adults again, they each took their own towel and dried themselves off. Oliver of course did not own a blow dryer, so Miley's damp hair hung limply around her face while she got dressed, and was still soaked when she left the apartment half an hour later on her own, while Oliver packed up his things.

Miley's apartment seemed much brighter when she returned to it, even though she'd shut most of the blinds, and none of the lights were on. She went about the penthouse apartment, opening curtains and various windows -since it was nice outside – and cleaning everything up.

Miley hung up the last of her clothes that had been littering the floor, and shut her closet doors, returning to the kitchen just as Oliver came through the door, the key ring she'd left with him dangling from his right ring finger.

"I want to move your dresser into our room." She told him, resting her hand on one of his bags before he could pick it up.

"Oh. Well I guess I could do that now." He said, setting the keys down on the counter top and heading for the guest room where his things had always been kept.

It took a while, but Oliver – with a little help from Miley – was able to move the dresser out of the guest room and into Miley's bedroom, where he positioned it directly across the room from Miley's own dresser.

Miley was a little more helpful when it came to removing his clothes from his bags and arranging them in the dresser, while Oliver watched.

"I take it you saw the ring when you were packing my stuff up." He said awkwardly, from the bed where he was sitting as Miley unpacked all of his belongings.

"I did." She replied, without looking up.

"I still have it." He told her, kneeling beside her on the floor. "Are we still..." He trailed off before he could finish his question.

"Engaged?" She asked, finally meeting his gaze.

"Yeah."

"Only if you want to be."

"I want to be." He told her truthfully.

"Then we are." She said, smiling. She sat up straighter and kissed him, before going back to unpacking the last of his things.

When Miley took Oliver's last shirt out of the suitcase, he reached in and took the small box that had been hidden underneath it out, and hesitated before opening it and turning it to Miley. She folded his shirt and placed it in the bottom drawer, closed it, and turned to face Oliver.

"Miley Stewart" He asked, "will you marry me?" Grinning, she nodded, agreeing, and he slid the ring onto her finger, finally making their engagement official.

Oliver leaned in to kiss her, with one arm wrapped around her waist, and released her a moment later.

"I'm gonna go make myself a sandwich. Do you want one?" He asked her, standing up.

"No thanks." She answered, "I need to clean up a little more. I'll be out in a few minutes." She watched as he left the room, and only then did she stand up.

Taking in the image of her ring, Miley realized just how happy she was to have it. She had finally found the one, and her only regret was not realizing it sooner.

...

By the time Miley left her bedroom, Oliver had finished his lunch and was watching a movie in the living room. She joined him on the couch, rested her head in his lap, and they watched old horror movies together for the rest of the night. Miley had been asleep for about ninety percent of the final movie, before Oliver turned off the TV and carried her to the bedroom. He joined her in bed about half an hour later, and he slept peacefully all throughout the night, excluding the annoying ring of a stupid telemarketer's phone call, while Miley unfortunately was tossing and turning for hours on end.

When Oliver woke up the following morning, Miley was nowhere to be seen. He figured she'd probably gone for a walk or something, and thought nothing of it while he made himself breakfast. When noon rolled around and she still wasn't back, Oliver got worried. If she'd planned on being gone that long, she probably would have left a note.

He was just about to call her when she came through the door, carrying a pink and orange Dunkin' Donuts box.

"Where've you been?" He asked, relieved.

"I went to get donuts." She told him, holding the box up a little higher.

"You've been gone for over an hour." He said, a confused look on his face.

Over two actually, she thought. He'd been dead asleep when she'd left.

"I walked." She explained, setting the box down on the side of the counter opposite him. The look on his face didn't fade. "Slowly."

"Okay." He said, circling the island and standing behind her. He reached around her for a donut, and wrapped his one free arm around her. "Thank you." He told her with his mouth full. She smiled weakly and took a donut for herself, her shoulders curling away from him reflexively.

"Is something wrong?" Oliver asked, swallowing.

"No, I'm fine." She assured him, freeing herself from his grasp. "I'm gonna go call Lilly." She pulled her phone out of her purse and left the room, leaving Oliver with the box of donuts.

The box was empty an hour later, and Miley was still holed up in her bedroom on the phone. Oliver could hear the faint sound of her voice, but not a single distinct word. He didn't want to spy on her and saw no reason to be too concerned, so he turned on the TV to hide the muffled sound of Miley's voice.

Miley never came out of her bedroom, and three hours later he found her fast asleep on her bed, with her phone in her hand. He pried her cell phone from her closed fist and set it on the night stand, before pulling a blanket down from her closet and covering her with it. He quietly closed the door behind him when he left the room, and made as little noise as possible as he searched the kitchen for a recipe book. He finally found one, opened it up on the island counter, and searched through it for something good, finally settling on spaghetti, as cliché as it was, since it was the only fancy meal in the entire book that he could pronounce.

As silently as he could – which was difficult, given the near impossibility of taking pots and pans out of cupboards without making noise – he boiled the pasta and browned the hamburger for the sauce, before finding a garlic bread recipe.

He turned the stove on low and in the ten minutes the garlic bread took to cook, he ran downstairs and to the flower shop next door, where he bought a small bouquet of daisies. Back in the apartment, he placed them in a vase and set them on the counter while he dug through Miley's hall closet for her card table and chairs. He took the garlic bread out of the oven before the alarm went off and woke Miley, and set it on the stove top, behind the spaghetti sauce, before going back to the table. He moved the couch, recliner, and coffee table back to make room for the table, and returned to the closet to find a tablecloth. He found a cream colored one on the top shelf and spread it out on the table. Oliver set the flowers in the center, blew up some balloons he'd seen a few days earlier in the junk drawer, and tied them to the chairs.

As he was taking out the plates, Miley's bedroom door opened and she appeared in the doorway, looking slightly more rested.

"Happy birthday!" He said, smiling.

"Aww, Oliver!" Miley cried, moving to give him a hug. "You didn't have to do this."

"I felt bad about missing your birthday." He told her. "Sit down." She took a seat at the table, and waited as Oliver served them both their dinner. He sat down across from her and waited for her to take the first bite.

"This is really good Oliver. Thank you so much." She told him, after she'd swallowed.

"You're welcome." He said, grinning. "I'm glad you like it."

When Oliver finished his last bite, and Miley neared hers, Oliver realized he'd forgotten a dessert.

"Oh crap. I forgot dessert." He said out loud, pressing his palm to his forehead, disappointed.

"It's fine Oliver." Miley assured him, taking his other hand in hers. "I know what I want for dessert anyway."

"Do you?" He asked, the corners of his mouth turning up.

"I do." She said, standing up and circling the table. Oliver stayed seated until she leaned down from behind him and pressed her lips to his neck. She grabbed his hands as he stood up and turned to face her.

They were naked and in bed together within the minute, leaving the dishes forgotten in the kitchen.

"Is it too soon?" Miley breathed in his ear. "We just did this yesterday."

"No." Oliver laughed with what breath he had left. "We're celebrating. It's fine." Miley shoved him off of her and rolled on top of him, relieving his arms of his body weight.

"Okay. If you ever don't want to, just tell me." She said between kisses.

"Miley?" Oliver whispered, running his hands along her spine.

"What?"

"Shut up." She did as she was told, and the only actual English word that came out of her mouth for quite some time was Oliver's name.

...

Four of the following seven days, Oliver woke up to find himself alone in the apartment. Two of those times, there was a note in the kitchen, while the other two, her purse and keys were still on the table by the door where she kept them, and there was no sign that she'd left at all. Half of those four days, she didn't come back until after he'd left for work, and when he called the apartment to see if she was back yet, she'd simply say she'd gone for a walk, or Christmas shopping, or had gone to visit Lilly. He had a feeling that the last excuse was a lie. She was far from social lately, so he highly doubted that she cared to talk to Lilly any more than she cared to talk to him.

On that eighth day, Oliver was not the least bit surprised not to see Miley next to him in bed when he woke up in the morning. She was almost always awake before him, and while sometimes she stayed in bed until he woke up, she usually got up and was making herself breakfast, cleaning the bathroom, paying her bills or something of the sorts by the time Oliver woke up.

This time, of course, she was not in the apartment at all. That didn't come as much of a surprise either. He had known when he'd woken up that she wasn't going to be there. How good of a boyfriend the fact that he hadn't found out what was wrong yet made him, Oliver didn't know, but what he did know was that she was absolutely miserable, and he was starting to feel the same way.

The rest of the apartment was empty, as expected, and all of Miley's things were still where she'd left them the night before, just like the last time. The only difference now was the fact that Oliver fully planned on finding her this time.

He didn't have to go far. He opened the door of the apartment and found her sitting outside the door, on the floor with her back to one of the walls perpendicular to the one the door was on.

Oliver didn't say anything. He just sat down beside her, their shoulders brushing against each other in the silence.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You're forgiven." He responded, even though he had no idea what she was apologizing for.

"No I'm not." She must be able to read his mind, Oliver thought. "I'm sorry." She said again, "I just...wanted to be alone."

"Do you want me to go back inside?" He asked, not actually planning to do that, but offering anyway.

"Yes." She told him, and his heart sank a little bit. "But I want to go with you." Oliver grabbed Miley's hand and squeezed it, before he stood up and helped her to her feet.

The sound of the doorknob turning and the door not opening made Miley's heart drop lower. Oliver's grip on her hand loosened, and her fingers fell out of his, landing at her side as he kept his back to her and tried to open the door again, failing miserably.

"We're..." Miley started to say. "We're locked out...aren't we?"

"Umm...well it depends on what side of the door is out." Oliver responded, turning to face her.

"You're an idiot." Miley told Oliver, smacking his chest with a look of disbelief on her face.

"You were out here first! You didn't bring a key with you?"

"No! I didn't close the door all the way!" Miley shouted at him, shoving him away angrily.

"Sorry." Oliver mumbled awkwardly. Miley sighed, and then her angry expression turned into a smile, and she started laughing.

"Do you at least have your phone?" She asked through her laughter, holding her hand out.

"I...uhhh..." Oliver muttered as he dug through his pockets. With a relieved look on his face, he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, and handed it to Miley, who used it to call Lilly for the extra key.

"Hey, Lilly? You wouldn't happen to have that key to my apartment handy, would you? Oliver was a moron and locked us out."

"Hey!" Oliver complained, unable to get another word in before Miley spoke again.

"Be quiet, I'm on the phone!" She hissed at him, pressing the palm of her hand to his shoulder as she turned away. "No, that's okay." She said into the phone. "Thank you so much Lilly. You're a lifesaver."

The phone landed in Oliver's hand again, and as he stuffed it into his pocket, Miley sat back down on the floor.

"She's leaving the doctor's. She'll be here in about twenty minutes." Oliver sighed and sat down on the floor beside her once again.

"What do we do until then?"

"I don't know." She answered, tipping her head back against the wall. "I can't believe you were so stupid."

"I wasn't the one sitting outside without a key." Oliver defended, even though he could tell by the laughter in her voice that she didn't actually blame him.

"Technically, you were." Miley pointed out.

"Well...you did it first."

Miley's hand crept back to Oliver's, and her fingers slipped between his.

"Anything exciting happen at work lately?" She asked him, trying to make conversation. They hadn't had much of a chance to talk about Oliver's job for the past few days, nor had they had time to talk about anything at all.

"You really want to talk about work?" Oliver questioned, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

"No." She answered truthfully, smiling back at him. Oliver leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, and she turned toward him, causing him to kiss her lips instead. Their lips parted, but their foreheads touched, and neither of them moved back to the position they'd been in before. Miley closed the gap between their mouths, and gently snaked her right hand around his neck. Oliver's same hand made its way around her waist, pulling her into his lap while he kissed her harder and harder.

Miley's fingers slipped under his shirt, and her legs wrapped around him, forcing

him away from the wall to make room. With one of his arms holding her up

against him, Oliver's free hand moved up her back, beneath her shirt. His middle

and index fingers slid beneath the clasp of her bra, pulling it away from her skin, but not undoing it. Her knuckles brushed against his lower stomach when she gripped the top of his jeans to pull herself closer to him. He let out a long breath when her hands moved in deeper, and she pushed her chest against his. Oliver's hands stayed where they were, one around her waist and one now grasping the back of her head. Her lips pulled at the skin on his neck, and her left hand moved up to his shoulder, her right sliding down his leg and then back up, resting at the highest point on his thigh.

"She's probably gonna be here soon." Oliver breathed, swallowing hard.

"Oh." Miley said quietly, sitting up straight. "You wanna stop?"

"No." He told her honestly. "But we probably should."

"Yeah." She agreed, climbing off of him. "You're right. We don't want to scare Lilly into premature labor." She laughed quietly, and closed her eyes, resting her head against the wall.

"Miley." It had been so long since he'd said it aloud that her name tasted strange to him. Her eyes shot open, and she turned to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She responded calmly, staring back at the wall across from her.

"You're lying." She glanced at him, surprised. She was silent for a second, out of words to say.

"What..._Oliver. _What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _me?_" He asked her, an equally surprised look on his face. "Nothing is wrong with me. You're the one who's been moping around, completely miserable. You're never here when I wake up in the morning, and I have no idea where you've been going. Don't _even _deny that anything is wrong." She snorted, no actual words available at the moment, and stood up.

"I'm just..." She started to say, as she circled the small area between the elevator and apartment door. "It's my time of the month." She lied.

"No it's not." He caught her.

"Yes it is." She said, squinting at him.

"No, it's not. Unless you were lying the first week of the past three months when you used that as an excuse not to have sex."

"I..."She had absolutely no idea what to say now. There was nothing that she could say to make him happy. Either way he'd be angry with her.

Before Miley had the chance to make up another lie, the elevator doors opened, and Lilly appeared in the small space, dangling her key from her fingertips. Her smile disappeared when she saw the way Miley and Oliver were glaring at each other, and the key dropped down to her side.

"What's going on?" She asked, and they both stared at her.

"Nothing." Miley said, monotone. "Oliver's just an _idiot._"

"I'm sure he didn't purposely lock you out..." Lilly said awkwardly, handing Miley the key.

"I'm sure he did." Miley spat, unlocking the door and giving Lilly her key back. "Thank you Lilly."

"No problem. I'll see you guys later..." She said, not bothering to enter the apartment.

"Yeah. See you later Lilly." Oliver said as he moved toward the door, only to have Miley try to slam it in his face. He caught it before it closed and shoved it back open, glaring at her.

"Bye Lilly." Miley called after her friend as the elevator doors closed, spinning around and quickly entering her bedroom, closing the door behind her, once Lilly was out of sight.

With a loud sigh, Oliver sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels over and over for half an hour, without settling on anything, not because he couldn't find anything, but because he didn't want to stop angrily pounding the channel up button.

Several minutes later, Oliver almost didn't know she'd come back into the room, Miley was so quiet. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and sat down on the couch beside him, making sure to take her seat as far as possible from the end Oliver was sitting on.

"I want to apologize" Oliver finally said, "but I feel like all I ever do is apologize to you."

"Maybe you should stop doing things you need to apologize for." Miley shot back at him, her tone of voice filled with anger.

"Maybe you should quit being such a bitch."

"Maybe you should get out." She stared at him for a moment, and watched his facial expression, as he tried to hide how much that had hurt him. "I'm sorry." She said, the irony of that not entering her mind. "I didn't mean that." Oliver didn't say anything. He just got up off the couch and closed their bedroom door behind him before she could see him crying like a baby.

…

They spent the entire rest of the day in separate rooms, eating dinner at different times, mostly because of Oliver. It wasn't that he didn't want to be near her, it was just that he was afraid he'd start crying again if he so much as looked at her.

Oliver was deathly afraid that it wasn't going to work out between them. Every time they fought he felt like she was squeezing his heart in her fist. He didn't remember her being this mean back when all they'd been was friends. Lilly had actually been the mean one. She was always mad at him for some reason or another, and Miley usually was the one who tried to fix things between them, because she hated seeing her friends fight so much. He had no idea where that Miley had gone, but he knew that this one didn't care quite so much about whose feelings she'd hurt. She couldn't, if she could keep doing this to him.

Oliver was deathly afraid that they weren't right for each other, and that he was going to find out he'd done this all for nothing. That he'd wasted his time.

More than anything, Oliver was afraid that it was his fault that it wasn't working.

…

"Are we okay?" Miley asked, standing in her bedroom doorway that night. Oliver was lying in bed, and the newspaper was covering his face, until he lowered the paper and stared at her for a moment. When she looked at him that way, it convinced Oliver that Miley _did _have feelings, despite her proving to him earlier that she didn't. He couldn't help but forgive her when she looked at him like that.

"Yeah." He told her. He loved her too much to tell her what he was really thinking.

"So can I..." She started to ask, nodding toward the bed. Oliver simply patted the spot next to him, and set the newspaper down as she leapt into the bed and snuggled up next to him. "I love you." She told him, closing her eyes.

"Goodnight Miley." He replied, turning off the lamp and reaching for her hand. "Love you too."

...

What Miley was most afraid of was talking in her sleep. She had always had a tendency to talk in her sleep or sleepwalk when she was stressed out, and she knew that she was probably doing it these days. She wasn't worried at all about talking about Oliver. Her feelings weren't anything she needed to hide from him, but there were other things she didn't want him to hear, in fear of hurting him again, and that was why, for the past week, she'd been waiting for him to fall asleep every night before sneaking out. She waited to hear his breathing slow, before she got out of bed and slept in the guest room for the rest of every night, waking up before him in the morning so that he never found out. She didn't want to leave him in bed alone. She loved feeling him next to her in bed, hearing his breath beside her. She loved _him_, but she didn't love _hurting_ him, and that was why she kept this from him.

Oliver started breathing more softly approximately twenty minutes after he'd shut off the lights, and his grip on her hand loosened, telling Miley that he was asleep. She waited for another minute or so before she started to get out of bed, only to have Oliver's arm wrap around her waist and pull her back down into bed.

"No." He said, pulling her up against him. "Not tonight."

…

Miley buttered her toast like she was rubbing sun screen on a baby. The only difference was the butter knife, and the fact that it was toast, and not an actual human child. She moved the knife across the bread so incredibly slowly, like she was afraid she was going to hurt it. Oliver was real close to just ripping it out of her hands and doing it for her.

He was about ninety six percent sure that she was being this slow on purpose. Her reason for that? He had absolutely no idea, but there had to be one.

"Umm..." She started to say, setting the butter knife down across the tub of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter and looking up at him uncomfortably.

"Last night?" He questioned, asking himself for her.

"Yeah." She said quietly, glancing down at her toast, debating whether or not to eat it. Miley set her toast down on a napkin and started to wring her hands in her lap.

"Do I snore or something?" Oliver asked, knowing that wasn't it, but giving her a chance to lie anyway.

"No...it's just...sleepwalking." She bit her lip, wondering how she could explain to him why she couldn't sleep in the same bed as him anymore without it sounding horrible. "I didn't want to wake you up all the time." He didn't say anything to her; He wasn't sure that he believed her. "I know how stupid that sounds, but it's true." She reached out for his hand and slipped her fingers between his.

"Okay." He said softly, eying her toast.

"You hungry?" She asked, sliding the buttered toast toward him.

"No." He lied.

"You're lying." She called him out, pushing her brows together.

"So?" Miley just rolled her eyes and smiled at him, leaving her bar stool and breakfast behind as she circled around Oliver and kissed him on the cheek, wrapping her arms around his chest from behind and squeezing. Oliver's own arms held hers down and wouldn't let her go when she tried to stand back up.

"You gonna let go?"

"No." He answered, tilting his head back to look up at her.

"Why not?" She asked, touching his nose with hers.

"Because I don't want to." He said simply, standing up and turning around to pull her into a giant hug. She extended her arms and joined her hands behind his neck, like they were slow dancing, and pressed the side of her face to his chest.

"I'm sorry." She said, and he placed his hands on her hips, before opening his mouth to ask her why. "I'm so sorry about yesterday." She told him, before he could get a word out. "I keep doing that to you. I keep hurting you."

Oliver could feel Miley's tears soaking through his shirt, and his hands moved up, settling on the small of her back.

"Don't cry." He told her, pressing his lips to her forehead. "It's okay."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Nuh uh."

"Uh huh."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"_Yes._" Oliver said, kissing Miley hard before she could say another word.

"Cheater." She whispered into the crook of his neck, before she pulled his mouth down to hers again. She stepped backward, pulling him with her, and he almost tripped, catching himself at the last second. Miley jumped up into his arms, wrapping her legs around him and trusting him not to drop her with all that she had. He pressed her against the wall and freed one hand to open the bedroom door, before sliding said hand back underneath her thigh, not once removing his mouth from hers.

He didn't let go of her until they made it to the bed, and he followed shortly after, mostly due to her pulling him down on top of her.

"You're so..." She trailed off, not bothering to finish her sentence, so Oliver finished it for her.

"Amazing?"

"I was going to say heavy, but that works too." He laughed and rolled onto his back, relieving her of his weight. Straddling him, she remained bent at the waist, pushing her lips against his jaw while her hands went elsewhere.

"You can do it all today." Oliver said, grinning as she sat up to unbutton his jeans.

"No, I think you can help me out."

"I don't think so." He responded, jokingly.

"Well too bad." She replied, glancing up at him while she yanked his pants down to his knees and returned her attention to his mouth as he kicked them off the rest of the way.

"How amazing am I?" He asked her, while he helped her pull her shirt over her head.

"Really amazing."

"Really?"

"Really really." She assured him, rolling onto her back to slide her jeans off, so that he could take the top back.

"How much is really really?" He asked her, pushing his lower body hard against hers.

"So _fucking _amazing I can't-" She stopped talking to take a deep breath. "I can't even begin to describe it."

"So...better than him?" She went limp beneath him when she realized what he'd asked.

"Y-yeah. _Way_ better." She answered, hoping he hadn't noticed the change.

"How much is way?"

"Well...you know that salami we had for dinner the other day?" He didn't respond until he'd removed her bra and flung it across the room.

"Yes."

"Well, that would be you. And those hot dogs the guy with the little stand at the park sells? Well, that would be him."

"Oh." Oliver said, a satisfied smile on his face as his hands ran down her sides.

"I like salami a lot better than hot dogs, by the way." She assured him, digging her fingertips into his thighs.

"Good." He replied, the tone of his voice not having changed.

"Can we quit talking about this? I'm running out of metaphors."

"Sure. No more talking works for me. My lips are zipped." He told her, and for the most part, he followed through on that for the next forty five minutes.

…

Oliver fell asleep to the sound of Miley singing in the shower. The door was cracked open slightly, letting in her voice and a stream of light that fell on the crook of his elbow. He dreamt about her. He dreamt that they were on the beach somewhere. It wasn't here – the sand was a different color and the sun was in a position in the sky that it was never in here. It was somewhere nicer, somewhere more peaceful. Somewhere where only they were. There was nobody else there to bother them. It was just them, and they were happy. But it was just a dream.

Oliver woke up an hour later when Miley pressed her lips to his forehead and whispered something he hadn't quite understood in his ear. He opened his eyes to see her standing there, her hair done, wearing a beautiful blue, green, and white sundress.

"What?" He mumbled, disoriented.

"I'm leaving. For Lilly's baby shower." She repeated, pushing his hair back out of his eyes.

"Oh. That's today?" He asked, sitting up. The blanket pooled at his waist, and the cool air hit his bare chest.

"Yeah. And if I don't leave now, I'm gonna be late." She said, kissing him gently before she stood up.

"Okay." Oliver mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Have fun."

"I will." She promised, before she left the room, and then the apartment.

Oliver stayed in bed for a few more minutes, just sitting there, taking in the bright light. The only reason he got out of bed at all was because his stomach growled. Hungry, he climbed out from under the covers and pulled his boxers back on, before he went out into the kitchen to find himself some lunch. He dug through the refrigerator for a moment, and pulled out the makings of a ham sandwich. He turned around and set the mustard, ham, and cheese on the island, noticing just before he turned to find the bread that Miley had left her cell phone behind, sitting on top of the invitation to Lilly's baby shower. He moved it out of the way and started to make his sandwich, just as it started vibrating. The phone danced on the counter top, begging him to answer it. It was her business, he told himself. There was no reason for him to answer it. It was then that he noticed the number on the screen. It was Miley's grandmother calling. He'd just answer the phone and tell Ruby that Miley had left her phone behind.

"Hello?" He answered, just in case it was some weirdo who had stolen the phone, and not actually Miley's grandma.

"Oliver? Is Miley there?" She asked. She sounded strange, and Oliver could tell something was wrong.

"Uhh, no, actually. She left her phone at home when she left for a baby shower." Oliver told her. "I can have her call you back when she gets h-" He was interrupted before he could finish saying 'home' by the message Ruby wanted to leave for Miley.

…

The door clicked shut two hours later, and Oliver stood up, holding Miley's phone in his hand.

"They're pulling the plug." He said, staring at her as she entered the room.

"What?" She asked, confused. She set her purse down on the table near the door, and moved into the living room.

"Travis. Coma. Life Support...any of this ring a bell?"

"Wh-huh? What? They're...They're pulling the plug?" She stuttered, nearly losing her balance. She took a seat on the couch and rested her face in her hands.

"Is this why you've been so depressed lately?" He asked, unsure as to whether he should be mad or trying to comfort her.

Miley looked up at him through the curtain of hair that had fallen in front of her face.

"Oliver, I-" She started to say, but he cut her off.

"You didn't think you could tell me about this? You lied to me all this time?"

"I didn't lie to you!"

"Bullshit!" He yelled at her, completely oblivious to her tears. "You told me nothing was wrong! Every time you said that you were _lying!_"

"I...I didn't think you'd understand."

"I'm glad you think so highly of me." He said, tossing her phone on the couch next to her. "You might want to call your grandma." She set the phone on the coffee table and stood up.

"Oliver, I'm sorry. It's just..." She couldn't seem to think of the words to say.

"You still love him. Just like he still loves you, only you're not a...a horny drunken freak."

"Oliver, please don't call him that." Miley said calmly, turning away to face the window.

"Why not?" He asked her, scrunching his eyes closed in frustration.

"Because, Oliver, it's mean."

"So is lying." He shot back, turning away from her. He went to the kitchen and slammed his fist down on the counter, trying not to show her how upset he really was.

"Oliver..." She said softly, resting her hand on his shoulder lightly. "I love you Oliver, can't you just _please _try to understand this?"

"No, you don't love me. You love Travis. So why don't you just go tell him that before they kill him in that hospital." He yelled at her, his voice showing how close to crying he was.

"Maybe I will." Miley whispered, staring at him in disbelief. She turned away and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Oliver watched the door for a moment, mentally cursing himself. He wiped his eyes three times, before he went up to the door, and said through it,

"I don't want you to leave." No response. "I just want to be the only one. I guess I'm selfish. I just...don't want to share you with him. You were right. I don't understand at all, I guess." There was no sound from the other side of the door. "Miley I love you. I know you love me too, I just...I'm jealous. I feel like you love a loser in a coma a lot more than you love me. I just...don't get it." There was more silence, and tears started falling from Oliver's eyes. "Miley, please say something. Please."

The door opened, and Miley appeared, her face red and blotchy from crying. Her bottom lip trembled slightly, and Oliver glanced down at the suitcase beside her.

"I'm sorry." She said through her tears. "I'm so sorry."

"You're...You're really gonna go?" Oliver asked, as if he hadn't known that she would.

"I have to."

"No you don't." She looked down at her feet for a moment, looked up again, and shook her head.

"I do. I have to, Oliver. It's not working."

"We can make it work." He begged, even though he knew that she was right.

"We tried." She said, wiping her eye with the back of her hand. "It's not meant to be, I guess." Oliver stared at the floor for a moment, trying to tell himself that she was wrong.

"You're right." She nodded sadly and her arm twitched, like she had been about to hug him and decided against it. Miley ran her fingers through her hair, and finally said something.

"Thank you. Thank you so much for the best year of my life. I really do wish it could have been longer than this, but it just can't be." Oliver extended his arms, and Miley stepped closer, letting him close them around her.

"I'm gonna miss you." He said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice, and almost succeeding. She let go of him and grabbed her suitcase, squeezing the handle extra tight. "I'll be gone when you come back."

"Good luck." Miley whispered, and she grabbed her phone off the coffee table, picked up her purse and took her suitcase with her when she disappeared out the door one last time.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Ahh. It's done. Wow. Last chapter. Can you believe it? The last time I finished a story...was probably a year ago. **_

**_I guess it's been proven I don't have attachment issues...I am so glad to be done with this. I'm so excited to write my next story. Which hopefully means it will be up relatively soon, if you're interested..._**

**_This chapter's kind of short...but I'm not going to apologize because it's the last one, and by most people's standards, over 4000 words is long. But I really hope you like it. _**

**_There will be a sequel, eventually...so there's no need for anybody to freak out. You know who you are. _:)**

**_Please let me know what you thin__k._**

**

* * *

**

_Love is bullshit, _Miley thought as she stared into the nearly lifeless face of Travis Brody. She'd left the man she had thought she'd loved for a comatose man that she'd thought she'd loved long before that, and for what reason?

Standing in the hospital room alone with a man who wasn't going to wake up hardly seemed worth the trip. What exactly had she thought she'd accomplish by coming out here? The same thing she'd thought the last time she'd come out here, probably. Or maybe she'd thought that she could make him wake up. Maybe she'd just come here to get away from Oliver.

She'd thought for sure that he was the one. This time, she'd told herself time and again, was it. He was supposed to be 'The One' that everybody was supposed to find.

Love couldn't possibly exist. There was infatuation, which was Miley's main problem. There was the bond between family and friends, and there was that excitement you felt when you found something you really liked, whether it be a boy or a new refrigerator, but there was not love. Fairytale/romance novel/Taylor Swift song love was a figment of the entire world's imagination. It just had to be. She'd tried so hard to find it, and now it seemed like she never would. Everybody tried searching for it, and it looked like nobody was successful. People thought they were in love, but they discovered they were wrong when those divorce papers showed up, or when they found out about the other woman. They realized they were wrong, or they never got to find out, like her parents.

Travis' finger twitched, but Miley had already been told by the doctor that it probably didn't mean anything. It was just his nerves, or his reflexes.

The hospital room was empty, and silent, aside from the constant beeping of the heart monitor. The clouds outside blocked all the sunlight, so that the room was just as dark and gloomy as it felt. The temperature was slightly on the cold side, but Miley seriously doubted that mattered to Travis.

He certainly didn't look like there was anything wrong with him. There wasn't a scratch on him that Miley could see, and his broken arm hardly looked damaged. She stared at him, thinking back to the first time she'd met him. She was six, and he'd just turned seven. Back then he'd loved to brag about how he was older, even if it was only by four months.

Miley remembered it, clear as day. She'd gone to the county fair with her family, and had been forced to ride the spinning teacup ride with Luann, even though she was terrified of the nausea that came with those types of rides, and was even more scared of her cousin. The second they got off, Miley had stumbled away, feeling like she was going to puke, and Luann had taken it upon herself to forget the buddy system, and wandered off, no doubt to come up with some evil plan to make Miley cry.

While trying to find her parents, Miley got sick in the bushes, and the first thing she heard from her soon to be best friend was:

"Ewwww."

She'd looked up, with tears in her eyes, into the face of one Travis Edward Brody, seven years and two weeks old. She'd opened her mouth to insult him, but hadn't been able to find the words.

"Want some?" He'd asked, holding out his half eaten funnel cake while he sucked the last of his soda through the twisty straw of the large green cup he was holding in the other hand.

"No." Miley answered, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

"Why not?" He asked her, setting the cup down on one of the landscaping bricks he was standing beside so that he could rip off a bite of the treat.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"I'm not a stranger. I'm only seven. Strangers are old. Like, twenty." Miley, being a gullible little girl, had taken his word for it, and forgetting all about finding her parents, she'd wandered off with Travis to find a picnic table so that they could sit and eat his funnel cake together.

Her parents had been hysterical when they'd found her, but she insisted that they'd just been watching the ponies across the path from the picnic table, and ignoring their scolding, she simply asked if she could ride the white one.

The Monday after the fair, Miley's first grade class had a new student, and Miley had a new best friend.

Back then Travis had been so innocent. Sure, he'd been a little too quick to talk to strangers, and offering food to people he didn't know was definitely one of his faults, but he'd been so normal. The way he'd been then, nobody would've guessed he'd grow up to be like this. Never had anybody who had known Travis as a child thought even once that he'd end up a suicidal alcoholic, spending his last days in a coma after killing another person in a car accident. He was supposed to grow up to be successful. He'd wanted to be a rodeo cowboy as a child. He _should _have been one. He should have been _something._ But he wasn't. He was never going to be anything. In a day's time, he was going to be dead, and that evil part of Miley hoped that when that happened, maybe he'd actually be gone, and the grip he had on her would be broken.

The heart monitor started beeping faster for a moment, and slowed back down again, kicking Miley out of her thoughts and informing her that it was time for her to leave the room. In the doorway, she looked over her shoulder at him again one more time, and left the room.

The cafeteria was much louder than Travis' hospital room, but the mood was no different. There were very few people in here who were stuck in this hospital for a good reason. The few with smiles were welcoming a new family member, and the rest were saying goodbye to one.

A biscuit, some pudding, and a sad looking salad sat on Miley's plate, but she didn't eat any of it. After a while, her hunger got the best of her though, and three hours after arriving at the hospital, after a long plane ride with nothing but disgusting crackers to eat, she shoved a spoonful of her pudding into her mouth. She took bite after bite until her plate was empty. Scanning the room, Miley searched for a garbage can, and just as she found one, she saw a man staring at her from across the room. He was holding a plate in his hand, and had a look on his face that told that he was searching for somewhere to sit. When Miley didn't get up to throw away her plate, he crossed the room, sat down across from her, and told her his name. Even though Miley wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone of the opposite sex, no matter how gorgeous he was, she told him hers, just because maybe it would get her mind off of things.

…

The green line on Travis' heart rate monitor flat-lined, and Miley felt no different. She didn't know what she'd been expecting to feel when she lost her childhood best friend, but she certainly hadn't been expecting this. Time ticked by, and she waited for the tears to come, but they didn't. She just stared down at his face, and it seemed no different. Something _had _to be wrong with her. She'd let her feelings get in the way of her relationship with Oliver, and for what? Apparently she didn't have enough feelings for the lifeless man in front of her to even cry when he died.

The doctor and the nurse who had attended the execution-like event recited that well-rehearsed line they're probably required by law to say, but Miley only knew this because out of the corner of her eye, she could see their lips moving.

When the room emptied out, the silence made Miley realize just how empty this room was. Without Ruby – who hadn't wished to witness the event, and therefore had stayed in the waiting room – there with her, it was very noticeable who wasn't here: Travis' parents.

There had been a period of three weeks in September when they were both eight – he was almost eight and a half, and Miley had just celebrated her birthday – when Miley and Travis had not been friends. They were almost a month into the school year when Travis quit coming to school. Miley, being an observant third grader, had known that something was wrong. She always knew when he was sick, whether it be some sort of motherly instinct, woman's intuition kicking in early, or just the ability to listen when he complained, but she knew that Travis had been perfectly healthy. Still, he was gone for an entire week, and nobody would tell her why.

At the time, she hadn't quite understood the concept of death. His parents were dead, but when were they coming back?

Travis came back to school the following week, but it was different. He didn't seem to want to talk to her. He didn't want to play on the monkey bars, he didn't want to swing with her on the swing set. Some strange old woman kept picking him up from school everyday, instead of his mom.

He eventually quit talking to her altogether, and for three weeks, Miley sat on the squeaky swing set with some girl whose name now escaped her. The first of October came and went, and one day at recess he sat down on the swing next to her and asked if she wanted to see who could jump the farthest, like everything was normal again.

For two entire years after that, they hadn't talked about his parents. He didn't come to her tenth birthday party, and in return she didn't go to his eleventh. That last year before Miley moved, those three weeks in the third grade repeated, neither of them having any desire to rekindle their friendship. Miley's eleventh birthday came, and had just barely went by when she found herself in a situation similar to the one Travis had been in three years earlier, only for her, it was her mom. The family then had packed up and left town, and she hadn't even bothered to say goodbye.

All those years later, when she'd gone back, she hadn't recognized him at first. If she couldn't recognize her best friend, could she even recognize her own reflection?

…

The tears did eventually come. For a whole two hours back at her grandmother's house, Miley sat in her Mother's old room and cried. Not for Travis, but for all of the things that weren't going to happen anymore. He wasn't going to finish repainting the barn. He wasn't going to mow the front lawn. Somebody else was going to have to be hired to help her grandmother, because Travis was never going to grow old. He was never going to have children, or grandchildren. He was never going to be her best friend again. She was never going to have an excuse again.

…

The front porch of the small house that Lilly and Jackson were living in was slightly crooked. If you dropped a marble, it would roll to the left, beneath the porch railing, into the depths of one of the bushes lining the front of the house.

Oliver stood on the sole part of the wooden structure that seemed like it could possibly be level: the small square of space in front of the door that dipped in slightly, like too many overweight people had stood on it.

He held in his hand a plastic Walmart bag, filled halfway with some items he'd found upon unpacking - for what seemed like the ten thousandth time – that weren't his. He _had _tried to bring them to her, but she hadn't answered the door when he knocked, and while it would have been easy to just leave them outside the door, there were some things in there that he knew she wouldn't appreciate being stolen, so he'd had to resort to Lilly, who was taking absolutely _forever _to answer the door.

Oliver was about to turn around and leave, when the door swung open and Lilly's gigantic stomach appeared in the doorway. She stared at him, and he could tell she was slightly perturbed that he'd interrupted her twenty four hours of laying around time.

"What do you want?" She asked, one hand resting on her hip, while the other laid on top of her protruding stomach.

"You not to hit me?" He offered, as she stepped back, opening the doorway for him. "Actually, I found some of Miley's stuff mixed in with mine, and I tried to bring it back to her, but she wasn't there-"

"She moved out." Lilly interrupted, taking the bag from him, while she led the way into the dining room.

"She did?" Oliver asked, like he didn't really believe her, even though he knew Lilly had no reason to lie to him.

"Yeah. She's got an apartment a couple blocks down from her dad's house now, but you won't find her there. She's been in Tennessee all month."

"Oh..." Was all that came out of Oliver's mouth. His fingers wrapped around the back of one of the chairs in Lilly's dining room.

"She's thinking about moving out there for good. She seems to think her grandma needs help, and since Travis is gone..." Lilly said, sitting down across from him, in front of a green ceramic plate with half of a sandwich left on it. She noticed the look on Oliver's face when she mentioned Travis' name, and added, "Oliver...he was her best friend before she moved here."

"I know."

"He had a lot of problems." She said, taking a bite of her sandwich. "And you know Miley. She always has to try to fix everybody's problems. She usually fails at it, but that's just how she is, you know."

"I know Lilly. I know that." She just shrugged her shoulders, and took another large bite of her sandwich. Her finger ran along the edge of the glass of water beside her plate, and she glanced up at him.

"I'll make sure she gets this." Lilly nodded toward the bag, which she'd set down on the other end of the table. Oliver nodded, and stood up straight.

"Thanks." He told her, very little emotion in his voice.

"Oliver..." She started to say, pausing to take a drink of her water. "If you're so upset, why don't you go after her?"

"I'm not upset." He defended, his shoulders curling forward over the chair again.

"Yeah, and I'm not pregnant." Lilly retorted, resting her hand on her stomach.

Oliver finally sat down in the chair he'd been standing behind the whole time he'd been in Lilly's house, resting his elbows on the table, and his forehead in the palms of his hands.

"She was right, Lilly. It's not meant to be." Lilly snorted, and pushed her empty plate away from her.

"What the hell is _meant to be_?" She asked him. "It either happens or it doesn't. If you want it to happen you make it happen."

"I _tried _to make it happen. It didn't work." He said. "And don't you dare try to tell me I didn't try hard enough."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Lilly said, standing up. She took her plate and her glass to the kitchen sink, placing the plate inside of it, and taking a big drink of her water.

"I'm gonna get over it." Oliver assured her, remaining in his seat, watching her over the counter top separating them.

"I'm sure you wi-" She quit talking, and closed her eyes. "Oliver." She said softly, sticking her hand out against the counter to balance herself "Can you call Jackson?"

"Why?" He asked, standing up so quickly he almost knocked over his chair.

"Because my water just broke."

…

The second Miley's plane connected with the terminal, she was off of it. She shoved past passengers and ignored the flight attendant when she told Miley she needed to wait. She raced through the airport, not stopping at the baggage claim. She hadn't brought anything back with her that didn't fit in the bag hanging off of her shoulder, and planned to go back to Tennessee to retrieve everything anyway.

There was nothing she could do, however, about the lack of availability of a taxi. She was extremely close to pulling her hair out, and then just running to the hospital, when one finally showed up, after what seemed like forever, but was only actually fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes was still too long though, and she urged the cab driver to exceed the speed limit. He of course refused, and by the time Miley arrived at the hospital, she almost died of relief.

There really was no need for her to be in such a hurry - It wasn't like it was her own child's birth she was missing. Still, she felt like she needed to be there as soon as she possibly could.

The elevator doors opened up into the lobby on the second floor of the hospital, and the first thing Miley saw was Oliver, asleep in a chair in the waiting room across from her. She reluctantly stepped toward him, but stopped when she saw her father, along with both of Lilly's parents, coming down the hallway. She was quickly enveloped in a hug, and when her father let go, she saw the nervous expression on the face of Lilly's father. Heather Truscott, in comparison, looked ten times calmer.

"It's been a while since I've done this." Mr Truscott said, trying to smile as some sort of greeting.

"You've never done this, Ken." Heather said smugly, before she pulled Miley into a hug.

"You know what I mean." He said, sighing. The can of soda in his hand shook slightly as he tried to take a drink.

"How is she? Can I see her?" Miley asked, looking to her father for an answer, even though it was Lilly's mother who answered.

"She's fine. The doctor just kicked me out a couple minutes ago. It should be happening soon."

"Okay, good. I didn't miss it." She said, a relieved smile on her face.

"We've got a lot of waiting to do." Robby Ray said, wrapping an arm around his daughter as he steered her toward the waiting room, where Oliver was still asleep.

Miley took her seat across from her father, with nothing but an empty chair between herself and Oliver, and took a deep breath, finally able to relax, after all of the worrying she'd done since she'd received the phone call from Jackson earlier that afternoon. Before she knew it, she too was asleep.

Oliver was still asleep an hour later, when Miley woke up to find the waiting room empty, aside from the two of them. Heather's purse was pushed under Miley's chair, next to her own, so she took that to mean that they were all still in the hospital, and hadn't - as some cruel joke – left without her.

Miley's stomach growled, so she dug through her purse, trying to find the bag of chips she'd bought at the airport several hours earlier. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to eat them in this part of the hospital, but no nurses were around, so she opened the bag of chips and hid them in her purse, just in case.

The sound of the ripping plastic was loud enough to wake Oliver up. He grumbled something that sounded like "ow" and rubbed his neck, before he noticed her. He didn't seem to be saying anything, so Miley was the first to speak up.

"Hi." She said, pushing a potato chip into her mouth forcefully.

"Hi..." He muttered awkwardly, eying the bag of chips she was now holding openly in her hand hungrily. "Can I have one of those? I'm starving." She pointed the open end of the bag at him, and he took a handful of chips.

"That's not one." She pointed out, raising an eyebrow. He looked down at the chips in his hand, back up at her, and stuffed them all into his mouth.

"Glad to see you haven't changed." Miley said, sighing loudly. The chips in Oliver's mouth crunched loudly, doing away with the silence, until he finally swallowed and spoke up.

"So...how have you been?" He asked, bending one knee and resting his ankle on the other.

"Good, I guess." She answered, pushing the empty chip bag into her purse, rather than getting up and throwing it away in the garbage can that was maybe six feet away. "I've been thinking about maybe singing again. I was actually just going to call my label president today, when Jackson called me."

"Oh. That's good. I uh, finally got a record deal." He told her, taking the glory away for a moment.

"Really? That's great!" Miley congratulated him, setting her purse back under her chair.

"Yeah, I was at work a few weeks ago, and this guy came up to me and said he wanted to sign me. Turns out he worked for Atlantic Records, and had heard about me from someone. They changed their minds about signing me, I guess."

"That's great Oliver. I'm so happy for you." Miley told him. The huge smile on his face as he told her about it proved how happy he was, and it made _her _happy to know that she had found a way to finally do that for him. All it had taken was one little phone call to do what she hadn't been able to do in the months they had been together.

Oliver's smile stayed on his face, fading only when Lilly's mother appeared in the waiting room, a huge smile on her face.

"I have a grandson." She told them, grinning.

"Oh my gosh." Miley said, breathlessly. "I'm an aunt. I have a nephew." She turned to face Oliver. "Oliver, I'm an aunt."

"I'm a...nothing." Oliver said, his eyes opening even wider as it hit him that the best friend he'd had since kindergarten was now a mother.

"You might as well be an uncle." Miley said, yanking him out of his chair by the hand, as she turned to face Heather again. "Can we see her?"

"Yeah. The doctor wasn't so crazy about her having visitors right away, but she insisted on seeing you." Lilly's mother smiled again, and led the way down the hallway, to the room where Lilly had been transported to just twenty minutes earlier.

Heather and Oliver waited outside with Mr. Truscott and Mr. Stewart, while Miley entered the room.

"Oh wow." She said softly, as she took in the site of Lilly holding a tiny pink baby.

"I'm so glad you're here." Lilly said, looking up from her son.

"I got here as fast as I could." Miley told her, hugging Jackson before sitting down in the chair beside the bed.

"I'm gonna go get something to eat." Jackson said, starting for the door. "I can't remember the last time I ate something. That could be because of that head injury though." He said, pausing in the doorway to glare at Lilly over his shoulder.

"I did not hit you that hard." Lilly insisted, smiling as she looked back down at the baby in her arms.

"I'll be right back." Jackson announced, disappearing out the door.

"How was it?" Miley questioned, curious. She looked up at Lilly and then back down to the baby. "I-uh..." She realized how awkward of a question it was, but Lilly answered anyway.

"Awful. I am never doing this again." She joked, grinning at her best friend. Miley just laughed, still in awe at the site of her newborn nephew.

"What's his name?" She asked her, finally remembering the first question she had planned to ask.

"Cameron. Cameron Alexander Stewart." She stated proudly. "He looks just like Jackson, doesn't he?" She asked, propping him up further so that Miley could see him better.

"Poor kid." Miley said, grinning.

"_I _think he's beautiful. He's gonna grow up to be a real hottie. He'll be beating girls off with a stick."

"He _is_ beautiful." Miley assured her, reaching out to touch his tiny fingers. They wrapped around Miley's index finger, and she laughed. "He's got a good grip already."

"Everything is so different." Lilly said. "I feel so old now. It seems like we were just celebrating you getting your license. Now we're celebrating me having a baby."

"You _are _getting pretty old." Miley joked.

"Shut up. You're older than I am."

"Only by a couple months." Lilly yawned, and Miley took that as her cue to end her turn. "I'll send Oliver in. You're probably getting really tired."

"Okay." Lilly agreed. "You're not going back to Tennessee, are you?" She asked, before Miley could leave the room.

"In a couple days I'm going back to pick some stuff up. Grandma's fine without me...and I missed you too much to stay there any longer." Miley told her, her fingers gripping the trim around the doorway tightly.

"Good. I missed you too. The only person that ever came to visit me while you were gone was Oliver, and he complains way too much."

"I'll make sure his turn gets cut short then." Miley laughed, leaving the room to let Oliver in.

The rest of the men had gone back to the waiting room, leaving only Heather outside, who followed Miley back, now that she was alone. Heather sat down next to Miley's father, who stood up when he saw Miley.

"I'm gonna go home for a little while, I think." Miley told him. "I'm completely exhausted from all this traveling."

"Do you want me to drive you?" He asked, as she pulled her purse further up onto her shoulder.

"No, I'll just take a cab." Miley said, giving him a hug. "I missed you dad."

"Missed you too, bud." Robby Ray wrapped his arms around his daughter and squeezed her. "You're staying home for good now, right?"

"I'm going back one last time on Friday to finish some stuff." She told him. "Then I'm back for good."

"Good." He said, nodding as if he was approving.

"See you later, Grandpa." Miley said, grinning as she turned toward the door. She waved goodbye to Lilly's parents and exited the hospital through the rotating door, exposed to the bright sunlight right away. As she pulled her sunglasses out of her purse and put them on, Miley thought about how none of them had ever seen their lives turning out this way. Just two years ago, if somebody had told any of them about what was going to happen this year, they never would have believed them. All of their lives had gone in unexpected directions, and they were only just starting.


	22. Thanks & Sequel News

**Hello again. I just wanted to thank you all for reading and reviewing. This story is the most popular one I've had in a looong time, and it finally got to 200 reviews, so thank you all very very much for everything. :)**

**The sequel. About that.**

**I've decided to write another story I'd been planning out for a while before I finished this one. So in celebration of my 4th year on FF, I posted that today. (You can find it on my profile, it's called The Hard Way) After I finish that though, I plan to write the sequel to this story. I just needed a little break from Miley and Oliver's arguing. They were getting on my nerves. Haha.**

**So again, thank you all very much. I hope you stick with me to the end of the next one. That'd be great. It'd also be great if you checked out my other story. Okay. I'm done self-promoting. So thank you. Again.**


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